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Do Not Take From This Room 



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How Much Is She Worth? 

Vice. To Grace my White Slave den, I will give you fifteen 
dollars ! . • ^ i 

Virtue. To grace liome and Heaven, "her price is far above 
rubies" (Prov. 31 : 10). 












Christ, the Hope of Humanity 


the christian witness COMPANY 

151 Washington St., CHICAGO. ILL. 36 Bromfield St., BOSTON. MASS. 



"^;vpF.RViaE. n. 605AO 

Copyrinht 1910 


The Christian Wltoess Co. 

■ 6'=:^. v/ 

"The White Slave Traffic does exist here in Chicago ; right 
under the nose of the police. Down where the red lights 
blaze and where the ribald merriment drifts from semi- 
curtained windows, and where women and young girls are 
arrayed in the gowns of shame, there is where Christianity 
is needed the most." — Judge 'Newcomer. 

Digitized by tine Internet Archive 

in 2011 witii funding from 

CARLI: Consortium of Academic and Researcii Libraries in Illinois 


When this book was first under consideration the writer 
did not dream of the depths of iniquity to be found 
in the Slums of Chicago. After personal soundings 
were taken the enormity of the task assumed overwhelm- 
ing proportions. In fear and trembling, under the di- 
rection and encouragement of friends and God's good 
grace, the work was undertaken. 

The writer himself saw the vice sections of the Levee, 
the endless tramp of the men on the street and the dena 
in which the painted women sat smoking cigarettes or 
guzzling beer with their degenerate paramours. He saw 
the mirrored rooms and costly furnishings on which 
lolled the half clad forms of the harlots yet fresh and 
beautiful in the first full stages of "the life." 

Scarcely a block farther down the Line lay the cheaper 
dens where the raucous rattle of cheap instruments struck 
their discordant strumpet call on the lust-laden air. 
Here the Habitue purchased disease and a lingering 
death for a silver dollar. As he dropped it into the 
Madam's yellow palm the gleam of an electric light 
fell on its rough round rim and spelled the sacrilegious 
phrase, "In God we Trust." 



Here the withered fingers of Disease painted the ashen 
hue of death on her wasting mortality which Parisian 
cosmetics could not hide — telltale marks pointing to 
the open grave. Later the poor creature was wheeled into 
the incurable ward of the Cook County Hospital, a vic- 
tim of the Great Black Plague. Others entered the 
Dunning Insane Asylum there to pound out their miser- 
able existence against padded walls until death shifted 
the shuddering scene. 

Twenty to thirty full page illustrations have helped us 
to give a detailed account of many of the sin-saddened 
lives. The System yearly forces 6,000 girls into the 
Levee, the West Side Slums, the Strand and other vice 
sections of Chicago. In arraigning the White Slave 
Traffic before the Church and One Common Humanity, 
we hope not only to thwart the System's designs on Vir- 
tue, but with one united stroke to kill the vaunting old 
Hag in Scarlet. For this we pray, and invite your study 
of the book. 

Mr Clarkson, who has worked in the Chicago vice Dis- 
tricts for the last twelve years, has placed at our dis- 
posal sufficient data to write a set of volumes on this 
topic; viz., the White Slave Traffic. We have prayer- 
fully culled the best from all sources and have given 
credit to both author and organ where we have quoted. 
We extend the hand of Christian fellowship and a hearty, 


God bless you! to all who are fighting this Twentieth 
Century curse. 

"We lay no claims to literary merit, but hope we have 
placed before our readers in language kindly and plain 
and convincing what is burning on our heart. Eternity 
will reveal how many precious girls have been saved 
from the brothel through the reading of this book. 

We have endeavored to lay the cause of the whole 
frightful business at the door of sin. We have tried to 
show that law in the hands of corrupt officials does not 
"regulate" _nor even curb the rapid advances of the 
White Slave Traffic. We have expressed no faith in 
the city's government relative to this evil, nor confidence 
in its police force. We have shown that it protects, by 
tolerance at least, and against every law on the statute 
books, this Eed Light evil. We have not even spared the 
Church; for by its false modesty, timidity or wilful in- 
activity she allows this Octopus on the Lake to draw 
into its slimy maw our fairest daughters. And lastly, 
we have held up the world's only remedy — Christ, the 
Hope of Humanity. 

Yours for the rescue of the Fallen, 

F. M. Lehman. 


Foreword 5 

The Scarlet Thread — Corrupt Officials and Sleeping 
Churches — A Gypsy Smith March Needed — The Demon- 
iac's Cry — A Five-Inch God — A Newspaper Heaven — 
On Bed Bug Row — Stale Beer and Cheap Cigarettes — 
Nellie Darling and Saintly Schemer 17 

Jury Agent Buys Four Girls — Accident Spoils One 
Sale — Whitman Makes Statement — "Madam" Martin 
and the "Gentlemen" of Omaha — How to Crimp the 
Traffic — King of the Red Light — Disgrace to the Fair 
Name of Omaha — A Type of Blood Suckers — The Traf- 
fic in Girls — Saloon Evils Touch to the Quick — Twen- 
tieth Century Vied Sodoms — ^A Call for Revolution — 
American Liquor and Girl Traffic — They are Preying 
for You — Full Salvation the Absolute Cure 33 

Meadows and Babbling Brooks — The Father's Forebod- 
ings — The Empty Home — Nearing the Toils — The 
Large Apartment House — A Dozen Painted Beauties — 
A Vision of "Home, Sweet Home" — The Sad Sequel . . 53 


The Slave Coffle of the Trader — A Light or a Police- 
man? — A Pair of Bi-Focal Glasses — Dame Rumor 
Abroad — Religion on Parade — Salvation in Action — 
Dying for Love — "Rounding LTp" the Men — Eighty 
Cases a Day — "Indiscreet" Man Our Daughters' Foe.. 68 


The Smile that Wears— Blocks of Shame Stalls— Hotel 
White Slave Traps — No Beer and High Rent — A Shoe 
Seller's Story — Samson at Delilah's Feet — How Can 

We Save Her? ,,.,..,..... 85 



The Girl Wife on the Levee — The Sermon at the Tea 
Table — The Octopus on the Lake — Tricked at the 
Steamer Dock — Red Light Watch Dogs — Found Dead 
in Bed — On the Rim of Ruin — A Cobble Stone for a 
Pillow — The Undertaker's Story — No Friends in 
Death 97 


Cadets, and What They Are — Story of White Slave — His 
View Point — The "Beast and the Jungle" — Today's 
Awful Dangers — Died in a "Millinery Store" — Worse 
than African Slavery — Facing the Problem — Some 
Causes Found 117 

Betrayal and False Promises — "Why Don't They Get 
Out?" — Some Reasons Why — Food for Reflection — In 
the Wilds of Sin— A Personal Devil 136 

In the Mill — Piety Safeguards Chastity — Grapes in a 
Cop Box— The Fatal Half Sovereign— On the Street— 
A Midnight Knock at the Door — The Place of Infamy — 
"You Will All Come to This !"— The Dying Magdalen- 
Ellen and Lizzie — Died in the Work House — In a Pau- 
per's Grave 147 

A Few Quotations — French Headquarters — Procurer 
Shares Profit — Regular Business of Recruiting — A Spe- 
cial Grand Jury — Guiseppi Picone Convicted 165 

Difficult to Secure Conviction — Traps in City and Coun- 
try — Country Girl in Greatest Danger — Places of Dan- 
ger — Manifold Temptations — Ports and Depots Dan- 
ger Points — The Traffic World Wide — The Immigration 
Commission 178 

Houses of 111 Fame— Fine of not Exceeding $200.00— 
Duties of Mayor — Sheriffs — ^State's Attorney — Houses 


of 111 Fame or Assignation — Night Walkers — 111 Gov- 
erned or Disorderly Houses — Power to Enforce Laws 
Ample 197 


The Madam and the "Knocker" — One Saved. Where are 
the 999?— The Young Country Girl— Fifteen Girls 
Almost Ruined — A Story of Rescue — The Prayerful At- 
tempt — And Satan Came Also — The Second Attempt — 
Saved as by Fire — Rescued from the Strand — Sold for 
Twenty-five Dollars — Saloons Linked to Brothels — Vice 
in the Arms of Law — '"Snap Shots from My Kodak" — 
The Cage with the Glazed Top 205 


The Slave's Story— She Falls in Love— Her Dull Wits 
Awake— The Thin Man with the Cigarette— The Edi- 
tor of a Jewish Newspaper — The White Slavers, Kanter 
and Sam— White Slave Stockade 224 


Whispering Wind Fingers — The Serpent in Eden — A 
Streak of Brown and Yellow — The Affable Stranger — 
Country vs. City — Hickory and Prayer — More Plum 
Sprouts Needed — Fashion Set by Paris Harlots — False 
Modesty Ruinous — The Fatal Wine Room — "Furnished 
Rooms" to Let — A Stern Summary — Gilded Contrasts 
— "Tragedy in Life" — ^Blackened Teeth Seemed Only 
Fangs — Vanity Eloped with Beauty — Crooned to Sleep 
by Mother's Low, Soft Chant — Only a Girl's Ruined 
Life 239 


Dame Rumor and Madam Hoyle — Madam Deeds and Con- 
quering Grace — The Madam's Ringing Testimony — O 
Matchless Grace! How Wonderful! — "Lion of Judah" 
Breaks Chains — Ek's God May be Your God — A Per- 
sonal Letter from Dick Lane — Idleness and Whiskey 
Work Ruin — Reformation vs. Transformation .272 



The Syphilitic Wards — The Sobbing Bit of Humanity — 
"One More Unfortunate" — Lillie Saved on the Border 
— The Caught in the Snare — Our Summary 287 


Lighthouse Signals — The Dead Libertine — Traffic in Vir- 
tue — Costly Funeral Trappings — The Hawk and the 
Canary — A Graveyard Dialogue — Demon Exegeses— 
Demon-Land Punishment Defined — Demon Cunning and 
Torture — A Literal Hell — Heaven and Hell a Place — 
Hell a Place of Punishment — Dives Called to Witness 
— Some "Glaring Discrepancies" Harmonized — Demon 
Employment — Hell Strangely Material 301 


Startling Introductions Continued — Sarcastic Queries — 
Diamond Cut Diamond — "Perish in Their Own Corrup- 
tion"— The Farewell Shaft— A Sudden Shift— Skele- 
tons on Cavern Floor — The Ebon Escritoire and Yel- 
low Parchment — The Mock Judgment — Shattered 
Dreams — Startling Introductions — Black Cross Legion 
of Libertines — Eternity's Phonograph — Dry Bones in 
Ezekiel's Vision — Hemp and a Telegraph Pole — Egyp- 
tian Midnight — The Demon Chorus — More Revela- 
tions 317 


Under Swinging Brimstone Torchlights — The Fangs of 
Remorse — Toying with Death — The Agonies of Dying 
— Memory's Contribution — Drifting Toward No-Hellism 
—The Sweet Voice of Mercy— Salvation Outlined 338 


A Horrible Thing — The Horrors Grow — A Modem Mag- 
dalen — A Wondrously Handsome Woman — Strips Dia- 
monds from Ears and Fingers — "Nellie, How Did it 
Happen?" — Light at Even Time — "Does it Pay?" — 
Dollars vs. Souls— Thank God, it Pays ! 349 


A Chain of Queries — The Doctor's Eye-Opener — "Can 
You Find My Daughter?" The Life Size Photo- 
graph — Found Dead in the River — "I Must Find My 
Daughter !" — A Heart Broken Mother's Wail — Noth- 
ing but the Blood — "Where Has She Gone?" — "Better 
Position" Fiends — Heartless Advice — The Booking 
System — Protecting Vice — The Barricaded Home 361 


Custom House Place — Water, Eggs and Vegetables — The 
Enemy's Tactics Foiled — The Midnight Trio — Mr. 
Clarkson's Conversion — A Barrel House Saloon — Slum 
Boundary Dead Lines — The Slums a Midnight Parish 
— Curbstone Evangelism — Twelve Years in the Slums 
— 'The Undertaker's Conversion — Mr. Wakefield's Awak- 
ening — Jail Work and Workers — Wiseacre Theology — 
Nominal Church Indifference 385 


Blazing Red Light Districts — Midnight Results with Men . 
— Midnight Results with Women — Madams Leave Levee 
Resorts — An Appeal to You — Vice District Opposition 
— Startling Statistics — Manner of Support — Nature of 
Need 401 


Bread or Beer? Which? 49 

The Drunkard's Heritage 50 

Two Sinners ( Selected) 146 

Public Auction 235 

A Harlot's Soliloquy 268 

The Vice Monster 413 


How Much Is She Worth? Frontispiece 


The World Asleep in the Arms of Sin. 24 

On the Line 29 

The Bier That Made Milwaukee (In) famous 46 

The Last Farewell 57 

The Cab Route 61 

The Lonely Parents 66 

Dearborn Street, Chicago Levee 70 

Vice in the Arms of Law 74 

Two Barred Levee Dens 77 

A Brothel Service 94 

The Octopus on the Lake 101 

In the Morgue 110 

"I Can't See It!" 133 

The Moth and the Flame 202 

The Strand, South Chicago 218 

The Affable Stranger 244 

The Fatal Wine Room 253 

Led to Shame 257 

In the Toils 261 

Dick Lane, In Sin. Redeemed 283 

The Syphilitic Innocents 289 

The Dying Outcast 293 

Victims in the Hospital 297 

The Mock Judgment Scene 326 

Where Is She? 377 

A Service on the Levee 393 

The Outcast's Graveyard .412 



If we were asked to define the cause of all the 
misery, heartache and sorrow, we would answer, sin. 
The hiss in the word carries us back over the bridge 
of centuries to the blush of Eden. Here the sun of 
man's ideal habitation is just slipping over the west- 
em horizon of his earthly bliss. From the cloud-piled 
sky come ominous rumblings of dread and pending 
calamity. The echo still reverberates over the low 
hills of Time. 

As the Pair leave the gate-closed Garden with down- 
east eye and dejected mien, Sin stands, leering, in the 
distance to meet them. For a little while the world's 
first infant is fondled on the breast of Sorrow, and 
then the bony hand of Death reaches out from the 
misty space of Somewhere, and he is gone. We have 



been going ever since. This rattle-jointed son of Sin 
has divided every joy and multiplied every sorrow. 

Under screaming shell and blood-bathed sword and 
muflded drum we to-day patriotically entomb our 
noblest sons ; to-morrow we, as Adam 's children, weep 
and strew lilies on their graves. Yesterday we fondly 
caressed our fair daughters in the home circle, to- 
day we vote for corrupt officials, and to-morrow we 
search for our lost loved ones in the outcast's quar- 
ters, the river, or the potter's field. Cain still asks, 
"Am I my brother's keeper?" God still emphatically 
answers, ' ' You are ! ' ' 

The Scarlet Thread. 

The swinging scarlet thread in Rahab's window is 
the color-insignia of shame. It is the lure-color of 
the Demi-monde. In the wine that "moveth itself 
aright" and in the red light's glow is caught the 
fairy form of Desire draped in the gauzy garb of 
Lust. The hand of Sin has here so cunningly wrought 
that the unregenerate heart of man cannot withstand 
the lure-call of this crowning social evil. 

We need not look to our world legislative bodies 
for a cure for this frightful evil. Passion sits, proud 
and dictatorial, on the high seats of power. Almost 
within the shadows of the White House lie squares of 


vice fields safely nestling under the broad wing of 
executive tolerance. The original White Slave Trade 
center of this country, New York, although in moral 
corruption it stinks to Heaven, distributes its chattels 
with no noticeable government check to its nefarious 

Corrupt Officials and Sleeping Churches. 

The Octopus on the Lake we have illustrated espe- 
cially for this work tells the story of official tolerance 
in Chicago. From the mayor down to the lowest po- 
liceman the evil is winked at, if we are to believe the 
persistent rumors and ugly reports of the press and 
behold the continued existence and prosperity of The 
Traffic. If we were to climb to the topmost rear 
window of the high-steepled churches encircling the 
Twenty-second Street Bed Light District of Chicago 
we could almost spit on the low, lewd sheds of shame 
that thrive in their shadows. With all these years of 
"fuss and feathers" they have accomplished scarcely 
anything. Some one has said, the only way to rid the 
city of the District is to blow it up and then burn the 
hole out with kerosene. 

But the nominal church thinks not so. She falsely 
argues that if segregated vice were rooted out our 
wives and daughters would be in peril. Besides, some 


of her members have large * * interests ' ' there. To kill 
segregated vice means the loss of heavy monthly 
brothel rentals, which would mean a loss to the church 
treasury, which would mean a loss in salary, which 
would mean — God only knows what! So she simpers 
and smiles in her vestry robes and silken attire, sits 
back in her pew and sings : 

"Eescue the perishing; 

Care for the dying, 
Snatch them in pity from sin and the grave; 

Weep 'er the erring one, 

Lift up the fallen, 
Tell them of Jesus the mighty to save." 

But she goes not where the "erring" and "fallen" 
and "perishing" and "dying" are — lest she be de- 
filed. We declare if the Church is powerless to save 
the harlot and to wipe this evil from history's page, 
then we despair of legislation ever doing it. Law, 
with one eye awink and the other on bribes, has grap- 
pled ( ?) with the vexatious problem for six thousand 
years, and failed. But grace cannot fail! If, then, 
we see the colossal failure of the nominal church in 
the continued prosperity of The Traffic, we perti- 
nently ask, Have the Chicago churches on hand this 
necessary commodity called grace? Step from their 
back doors, where the echo of the song has scarcely 


died, into the Red Light District and you have the 

A Gypsy Smith March Needed. 

"We are not in sympathy with a corrupt officialdom, 
but until the Church moves out from her lethargy it 
is useless to cry out against corrupt political govern- 
ment. "People who live in glass houses must not 
throw stones ' ' is applicable to her until she as a body, 
with flashing eye and fire-baptized zeal marches into 
the Red Light Districts and drives the nefarious traf- 
ficker in girls back to the gates of Hell. 

Josie Washburn, for twenty years an inmate or a 
matron of a public house, says in her new book, "The 
Underworld Sewer" : "If the minister had been led 
for a few generations to devote so much energy to 
prevent boys from growing wild oats, and teaching 
men to protect and respect women, as he has been in 
assisting the politician, thousands of souls would have 
been saved from the yawning abyss of the underworld. 
While I may seem to say harsh things of the preach- 
ers, I respect them, and I hope that I may not be 
misunderstood, for I believe that they are good men, 
as a rule, do good work, Ijut they must he jarred loose 
from the usual way of treating the social evil," 


The Demoniac's Cry. 

The world is not half awake to the enormity of sin. 
Reformers lose sight of the cause of all our immoral 
conditions. Sin cannot be cajoled into good behavior. 
It cannot be legislated out of the heart. It is in the 
blood. It laughs at soft speeches and evades and 
breaks the law. When Christ comes on the scene, like 
the demoniac of old, it cries: "Let us alone; what 
have we to do with thee, thou Jesus of Nazareth!" 
Only when Cure meets cause do we see results. 

Our heralded newspaper philanthropies are much 
like the platitudes of the hireling who has one eye on 
his brothel-renting crowd and the other on his salary. 
Their boosted philanthropists are of like ilk. The 
great "foundation" schemes to sweep squalor and 
want from our shores forever are but the spasmodic 
awakenings of a guilty conscience within sound of 
the Judgment rumblings. The pale-faced sons of Toil, 
weltering in their crimson life-tides under the ping 
of the strike-breaker's bullet, pass in ghostly array 
before these finance kings, and they hasten to bribe 
the slumbering wrath of God by founding public bene- 
ficiaries with their ill-gotten millions. 

Nay, the unregenerate heart of man serves sin 
whether it be the harlot on the Levee or the lady in 
her castle; whether it be the thug in the District or 

The World Asleep in the Arms of Sin. 

All unaware of pending- dread alarms 

The World sleeps calmly in the Sin-Beast's arms. 


the Stanford White of Uppertendom ; whether it be 
the red-nosed barrel house bum on Madison Street or 
the diamond sporting nabob rolling softly down Michi- 
gan Avenue in his red sixty-horse touring car. 

A Five-Inch God. 

The following sad incident, clipped from the Chi' 
cago Examiner of April 21, 1910, will show that men 
will not give up their darling god of sin even as they 
totter on the brink of the tomb : 

"For nearly a year Mr. has been suffering 

from a lifelong overindulgence in tobacco. Just be- 
fore he sailed away to last Fall, * * * he 

was interviewed in his home, and complained 

wistfully that his cigar allowance had been cut. 

** 'I have tobacco heart, the doctors tell me,' he 
said. 'Here,' extending a frayed cigar, 'is the third 
of the four smokes they let me have each day. And 
it's only two o'clock in the afternoon! And for years 
I 've had forty a day ! I 'd like to sit here forever and 
smoke and smoke.' 

"Yet, knowing that tobacco was the cause of hia 
trouble, he drew a cigar from its case with a sort of 
defiant air, stroked it, and said: 

* ' ' This is the best friend I have left. ' 

' ' Since then, according to the reports from , 


he has been growing gradually weaker — and realizing 
it, he has set about the task of winding up his af- 

Here we have a poor man about to exchange worlds 
by the process of slow suicide by poison; viz., tobacco. 
He knows it is causing his death. The blue vapors of 
his cigar mingle with the approaching mists of disso- 
lution, yet he holds his sin-idol tightly between his 
ashen lips and speaks not one word of preparing for 
the Judgment. As the coffin lid is about to close upon 
his last bright shaft of humor he strokes the filthy 
weed affectionately and declares it is the hest friend 
he has left. Not one word about the Friend of Sin- 
ners. Not a single effort to wind up his affairs for 
the world of eternal verities. Is this the testimony 
of a saint? Even now as we write the newsboys cry 
his death on the streets. 

A Newspaper Heaven. 

**In the place where the tree falleth, there shall it 
be" implies that as we have lived here, so shall we 
spend eternity. God deliver the writer from going to 
a heaven where ignorance or prejudice or policy forces 
the newspaper to send many of the great men of 
earth! We ask the reader's pardon for our seeming 
sacrilege when we imagine Grim Humor sitting near 


the Great White Throne calmly blowing the smoke of 
forty fragrant Havanas into the face of God Almighty. 
Imagine, if you can, the snowy white wings of the 
angels and the blood-washed robes of the redeemed 
saturated with the stench of forty cigars? 

Gather from Uppertendom the renowned of earth 
and place them in the upper seats of the Glory World. 
Bring into the select circle a sprinkling of earth's 
smoothest financiers and set their mighty genius to 
work on cornering the planetary systems. A little 
lower than the angels (who have by this time been 
inoculated with this spirit), laurel-crowned by Mam- 
mon, the crew grown rich from saloon and brothel re- 
ceipts comes crowding up, the golden stairs. Through 
the open mansion windows of these elect inhabitants 
float long, faint, filmy blue lines of tobacco smoke from 
forty fragrant Havanas, and this heaven grows yet 
more idealistic. Do you catch a glimpse of what such 
a heaven would be? Let us be scriptural and call it 

On Bed Bug Row. 

"We are trying to describe sin in its various phases. 
We now turn more directly to our subject. The writh- 
ing Vice Monster you see stretching its deadly tenta- 
cles over the city of Chicago is another phase of per- 


sonified sin. We have walked down the Pariah Dis- 
tricts on the Levee where this monster fattens on the 
bodies and souls of our girls and boys to see sin in 
its more hideous forms. "We have seen the painted 
pariahs solicit the long night through. We have heard 
her amorous tap on the lace-hung window pane as 
we passed by and have felt the indescribably sicken- 
ing horror of Hell clutch our heart. We have seen 
the beautiful lust-clad dove in scant attire recline in 
careless pose on crimson divan in luxurious glass- 
walled apartments waiting the coming of her false 

From cut-glass goblet or silver chalice she sips her 
death-nectar to-night and, perhaps, to-morrow night, 
and then, first gradually, then rapidly she moves do\^Ti 
the line of shame-stalls until she reaches the dollar 
joint on Bed Bug Row. The "Painted Beauty" 
spends only a short time here, for Hell is in a hurry. 
Its tug-ropes pull hard now on her drifting barque. 

Stale Beer and Cheap Cigarettes 

In a room foul with cheap cigarette smoke, stale 
beer and fetid odors she lolls on frayed and crumpled 
pillows piled on worn and fourth-rate furnishings — 
a sight to make the heart grow sick. Dead now, gen- 
erally, to the whisper of Hope and the voice of Desire 

On the Line. 

Eeliold the skulking men with lust-mad brain, 
The harlot tapping on the window pan'v 


for better days, she sells disease and death to the 
''wandering boys" swarming the Levee all the night 

Beer, cigarettes, cocaine, morphine and mad pas- 
sion have burned out the last vestige of womanhood 
and we see before us a being lower than the brute. 
As our band bids them goodnight her blear eyes peer 
after us through the solid clouds of cigarette smoke, 
and she answers wearily, "Goodnight!" The door 
swings back on its wearing hinge when a wheezing 
laugh, fiendlike and low, like the wheeze of a disabled 
engine, follows us, and we know that her lungs, like 
the flues of the engine, are burned out. The Great 
White Plague has taken up its abode in her hollow 

Nellie Darling and Saintly Schemer. 

A few weeks more and we stand in the morgue. Be- 
fore us on a marble slab, still in her scant attire, lies 
the dead harlot — the poor child for whom Jesus died. 
They found her in her squalid quarters, in one hand 
a half-burnt cigarette, in the other an empty wrapper 
labeled ** Laudanum. " Sin brought her there. As we 
turn away the recording angel busily writes in a large 
volume the following startling charge: "Nellie Dar- 
ling, one of the sweetest women God ever made, was 


led astray by Saintly Schemer, member of Boulevard 
Square Temple. She might have been reached later 
by an aggressive church whose slogan was, "Holiness 
unto the Lord!" but for fear that she might be de- 
filed, she drew her saintly robes aside, sat complacently 
back in her pew and sang, "Rescue the perishing." 
It shall be more tolerable for Sodom and Gomorrah 
in the day of Judgment than for — ^but a woman's 
scream in the District disturbed our meditations. 


"The White Slave Traffic is a system— a syndicate 
svhich has its ramifications from the Atlantic seaboard 
to the Pacific Ocean, with 'clearing houses' or 'dis- 
tributing centers' in nearly all of the larger cities; 
that in this ghastly traffic the buying price of a young 
girl is fifteen dollars, and that the selling price is 
generally about two hundred dollars — if the girl is 
especially attractive, the White Slave dealer may be 
able to sell her for four hundred or six hundred dol- 
lars; that this syndicate did not make less than two 
hundred thousand dollars last year in this almost un- 
thinkable commerce ; that it is a definite organization, 
sending its hunters regularly to scour France, Ger- 
many, Hungaria, Italy and Canada for victims ; that 
the man at the head of this unthinkable enterprise is 
known among his hunters as ' The Big Chief. ' ' ' 

The above we quote from a pamphlet written some 
time ago. It is the utterance of Hon. Edwin W. Sims, 
United States District Attorney, Chicago. While the 
same has been discovered and uttered by others, his 



words lend agreement and weight to this now gener- 
ally acknowledged truth. Upon the heels of this as- 
tonishing condition of things in the United States of 
America comes the following clipped from a Chi- 
cago daily: 

Jury Agent Buys Four Girls. 

"New York, April 29. — [Special.] — The grand jury 
investigating the so-called White Slave traffic has 
found that not only do the conditions described in 
magazine articles exist, but that a grand jury repre- 
sentative, James B. Reynolds, through women agents, 
has been able actually to purchase four Slaves, two of 
whom are mere girls. Three arrests were made today 
as a result and another arrest is expected tomorrow. 

"Harry Levinson, who trafficked in girls on the 
east side, and Belle Moore, a negress, who sold white 
girls on the west side, are the principals. Aleck An- 
derson, a negro employed in the Union cafe in Broad- 
way, near Fortieth street, also was arrested. Levinson 
was held in $10,000 bail. 

"The girls purchased are all under 18 years of 
age. Two of them appear much younger than that. 

Accident Spoils One Sale. 

"The agents of Mr. Reynolds had negotiated for 
one girl only eleven years old, but when the time 


came for her to be delivered, they were told she had 
fallen down, breaking a leg. 

"District Attorney Whitman said to-night that it 
would have been an easy matter for the agents to have 
bought many more girls had not they insisted on hav- 
ing exceedingly young ones, 

"The women who did most of the work relating to 
the purchases are college graduates. One of them is 
from Radcliffe and the other from Smith. 

"They had little trouble after they once had their 
plans laid out, but they had to do considerable travel- 
ing. To the dealers they represented themselves as 
keepers of disorderly houses in Alaska and Seattle. 

"Mr. Reynolds told this about two of the girls pur- 
chased: One of them when taken in charge by the 
agents asked if she might be permitted to bring along 
her doll, and another said she had been taken so hur- 
riedly from a house where she had been detained 
since last September that she had left her Teddy bear. 

Whitman Makes Statement. 

"District Attorney Williams said tonight: 
" 'Our agents were represented as purchasers of 
girls. Friendly and confidential relations were es- 
tablished with some of the most influential procurers 
and dealers. By these means valuable first hand in- 


formation was obtained regarding the White Slave 
Trade. The agents were told the prices paid for girls, 
the methods employed in the business, and in some 
cases the corrupt relations existing between the trad- 
ers and certain police officials. 

' ' ' Trading during the present winter was described 
as exceptionally light on account of general alarm 
caused by the sitting of the White Slave grand jury. 
One large dealer told the agents that although two 
years ago he could have sold them all the girls they 
wanted at $5 or $10 apiece, he would not risk selling 
one now for $1,000. I do not care to say at this time 
just what price was paid for the four girls, but it was 
a substantial sum in each case.' " 

To corroborate that the Traffic is on the track of 
our daughters, we continue to quote from sources that 
make it unquestionably certain that we are in the 
grip of a vice system so well organized that its ma- 
chinery moves with the regularity of clock work. It 
is so well shielded and coddled by political tolerance 
that it seems we are at its mercy. The following wail 
comes from Omaha through The Mediator. It should 
wake up a sleeping, disbelieving or tolerant public : 

"Madam" Martin and the "Gentlemen" of Omaha. 
"The announcement from Washington that Presi- 
dent Taft will include in his coming message to con- 


gress a recommendation for the suppression of the 
White Slave Traffic makes us smile. 

"The chances are that the remedies suggested by 
the president will be along the lines of the non-effec- 
tive campaigns being spasmodically inaugurated by 
well meaning but misguided reformers over the en- 
tire country. It is all very well to go after the pan- 
derer who lives off the earnings of his Slave in a life 
of shame, but few if any of these human parasites 
ever get a sufficiently heavy jail or penitentiary sen- 
tence to strike a telling blow at the industry. 

How to Crimp the Traffic. 

"T/ie Mediator feels called upon to suggest that 
the real way to crimp the traffic is to go after the 
brewers who control the sale of intoxicants in the 
houses of ill-repute and then to turn their attention 
to the landlord, who as owner or agent of the prop- 
erties in which the prostitutes are housed waxes fat 
off exorbitant rentals and the revenues of related 
places of business which he compels his tenants to 

"These landlords are very easily reached if the 
police department or the reformers will go to work 
along practical lines. 


King of the Red Light. 

"The case of M. F. Martin, philanthropist, king of 
the Red Light, etc., etc., is called to mind. A year 
ago a campaign against the White Slave Traffic was 
inaugurated, but did anyone hear of this man Mar- 
tin being severely punished? Then later this sum- 
mer Isadore Zeigler on behalf of the Jewish societies 
prosecuted a few of the pimps and caused a few 
more to leave town, but while all the hue and cry 
was on, what was done to Martin? 

"It is true that Martin's cribs were closed up, but 
only temporarily, for the captain of the White Slave 
Industry immediately proceeded to improve the prop- 
erties by adding another story and doubling their 
capacity, and many of them again are thriving as 
more refined establishments of prostitution. 

"This man Martin, who donates to charity, and 
sometimes to the police relief funds, is a stench in 
the nostrils of decent people. 

Disgrace to the Fair Name of Omaha. 

"By decent people The Mediator does not mean 
prominent business men, or large property owners 
who may be members of one or more of the several 
country clubs, and who at the same time are using 
Martin as an agent for their properties in the lower 


part of town. We mean those persons who on gen- 
eral principles are opposed to the immoral traffic 
even if it reduces the income from their property. 

"It is a disgrace to the fair name of Omaha and a 
blot upon the character of the community that such 
men as Martin are permitted to exist within the com- 

A Type of Blood Suckers. 

"We desire to call the attention of the several civic 
leagues, charitable associations, church societies and 
others engaged in the work of suppressing the White 
Slave TraiEc the case of this man Martin. If it is de- 
sired to break up the industry of enticing young 
girls into lives of shame, the surest way is to start 
in on the blood-suckers of this type. 

"The MeMator is willing, and even anxious, to as- 
sist in any such crusade, not only against Martin, but 
also against the property owners whom he represents. 
Again, we suggest that the surest way to eradicate the 
evil is to prosecute the king of the blood-suckers and 
to investigate the elite for whom he acts as agent." 

The same old story of official tolerance and church 
inactivity is again brought to the fore and the same 
consequent conditions prevail. It seems Omaha is 
blessed (?) with the same kind of city government 


as is Chicago. The quotation shows, however, that the 
Traffic in Girls exists. The disgrace brought upon a 
city by such a course as charged by The Mediator 
is keenly felt by all her clean people. Strange as it 
may seem, the high hand of corrupt rule forces this 
foul thing upon her liberty loving citizens. 

Sin seems to have the upper hand now, but we 
take courage; we know that our blessed Lord will 
some sweet day close this awful reign of sin. As we 
pass through the vice haunts of Chicago, we think 
of the glorious change our coming King will usher 
in and we rejoice that then, if not before, this awful 
traffic in our daughters shall cease. 

To show again that the Traffic in Girls is not simply 
the exaggerated conception of a few, and that the 
saloon and the brothel are inseparably linked to- 
gether, we quote an editorial from The National Pro- 
hibitionist of January 28, 1909 : 

The Traffic in Girls. 

"Now will you fight? Will you rise and with 
all the might of your manhood and your citizenship 
smite the liquor traffic and all the corrupt powers of 
Hell that are allied with it and with it arrayed against 
the homes of the American people ? Will you ? 

"If any man can read the series of articles upon 


the White Slave Trade, which begin on the first page 
of this paper, and not feel himself compelled to swear 
war to the death against the colossal system of shame 
and crime of which this unspeakable infamy is a 
part, we are at a loss to understand what manner of 
man he is. 

Saloon Evils Touch to the Quick. 

"The saloon, the most obvious form of the liquor 
traffic, has inflicted its evils upon us so long that it is 
with difficulty, perhaps, that some of us appreciate 
what society would be without its curse. Our nor- 
mal state of social life has so long been far from 
healthy that, like the victims of some insidious dis- 
ease, we fail to recognize our real condition. But 
here the same vile power that has inflicted the saloon 's 
evils upon us touches us at an uncalloused spot, and 
touches to the quick. 

"Perhaps we have grown used to the butchery of 
our boys. Perhaps we can look into the upturned 
faces of youths in whom there is the possibility of 
divine manhood and know that, with unfailing cer- 
tainty, if the saloon be allowed to continue its cor- 
rupting work, a certain large percentage of them 
will live drunkards' lives and fill drunkards' graves, 
to the anguish of their loved ones and their own ever- 


lasting shame and ruin, and still be unmoved to 

Twentieth Century Vice Sodoms. 

"But is it possible that we can look at the sweet 
and innocent girls of our homes and know that the 
same power which gives us the saloon, the same vile 
greed for dirty gold, the same organized political 
corruption, the same conniving old party officials — 
that these are allowing to exist and operate an or- 
ganized Slave Traffic to steal those pure creatures 
for instruments of vice in the Sodoms of our twen- 
tieth century civilization, to drag the white lilies and 
the fair roses of our homes as harlots through the 
reeking sewers of our rotting cities — can we know 
this and not spring to arms as one man? 

"If we can sit silent and content, or if we can re- 
strain ourselves to 'moderate' protest, in the face 
of such facts as these, are we men ? Are we not rather, 
slugs and worms? 

A Call for Revolution. 

"If the political system which has been built up 
in this country were a thousand times more wonder- 
ful than it is, had it to its credit innumerably more 
achievements of greatness than it has, were its states- 


men flawless in every other particular, were there no 
other blot or mar on all its structure, were there not 
one other point at which just criticism could be urged 
against it, yet did this one infamy exist, this protected 
Slave Traffic alone were — is a call for revolution that 
will sweep clean the places of power from the Capi- 
tol and the White House at Washington down to the 
pettiest police station where corruption and tyranny 
rule the whole land through. 

"We say it again, if our government were immacu- 
lately clean, if the fraud and crime that disgrace us 
in governmental places, high and low, had no exis- 
tence, the Traffic in Girl Slaves, fostered and abetted 
by the officeholders who have been placed in power 
by the Republican and Democratic parties, were alone 
enough to call down the damnation of God through 
the arms and votes of honest citizens upon our whole 
political system. 

American Liquor and Girl Traffic. 

"If it is hard for you to appreciate all this in the 
abstract, let your thoughts come nearer home. When 
people have asked you in the past if you were not 
afraid that your boys, your own sons or grandsons, 
might become drunkards, you have sobered a little, 
but felt sure that you could protect them by home 


surroundings and education. Now we ask you, What 
about your girls? Are you fools enough to believe 
that any home surroundings or any education can 
certainly protect them from the Slave Drivers of Hell? 
"Isn't it time for you to join the revolution against 
the American liquor traffic and the American Girl 
Traffic, against the government owned thereby, against 
all the powers of darkness that are allied with them? 

They Are Preying for You. 

"Let us not obscure the subject with words of gen- 
eral meaning; let us make the matter very plain. 
When it is true that both the Democratic and the 
Republican parties, by platform utterances and plat- 
form silence, by evil laws enacted and needed laws 
neglected, by maladministration and the ignoring of 
notorious infamies from the White House down to 
the police station, have supported and are today sup- 
porting the traffic in drink and the Traffic in Girls, 
isn 't it time for you, not only to be or become a voter 
of the Prohibition ticket, but to become a 'red-hot 
partizan' of the Prohibition party, employing every 
power at your command to drive out of office the 
corrupt powers that prey, and put the Prohibition 
party in control of the government? 

The Bier that Made Milwaukee (In) famous. 

Ho ! see the Brewer on his hicr, and — well, 
Milwaukee beer has sent his soul to Hell. 


"In the name of American girls, slave and yet 
free, we ask you : Will you fight now ?" 

This editorial, of course, lays the blame almost alto- 
gether at the door of the saloon. We wish to say, 
however, that even the Prohibition party will fail if 
it will not supremely honor Christ, the Hope of 
Humanity. We know it is a fact that wine and women 
figure together in this affair; that the saloon and the 
brothel are evil twins of vice, the one leaning on the 
other. In one of our recent West Side slum tours in Chi- 
cago, we saw this strikingly demonstrated. The chief of 
police had issued orders that no intoxicants must be sold 
nor served in the lewd resorts after May 1, 1910. In for- 
mer visits "booze" was always in evidence and the "girls" 
in consequence were shockingly boisterous, boldly un- 
chaste and inapproachable. 

On this particular night when intoxicants had been 
ruled out they sat, almost invariably, quietly bend- 
ing over a piece of fancy work. It seemed the spirit 
of the District had gone out of them. When ap- 
proached on the subject of home, mother and Heaven, 
the serious face and downcast eye evidenced sane and 
solemn reflection, O that the Church would rouse and 
rise to her privilege ! How we long to see her drive 
the saloon and the brothel from our fair land. Where 
all other methods have failed, she can not fail. 


Full Salvation the Absolute Cure. 

The writer cares little how the liquor problem is 
settled ; whether through a party or some other way. 
He votes as he prays; viz., for its absolute prohibi- 
tion. However, the only hope of its complete destruc- 
tion lies in Christ, the Hope of Humanity. "We have 
no trouble with the man or woman who has been first 
soundly and scripturally converted and then, subse- 
quently, sanctified wholly. When Jesus changes the 
human heart, there is no more trouble with wine and 
women — with booze and lust. When the love-stroke of 
His power falls on the slave of sin the clanking chains 
of habit and desire are riven and we may turn the freed 
soul loose along miles of saloons and sections of Eed 
Light resorts. He will pass them all without a falter in 
his step or a single evil impulse in his heart. We love to 
exalt our Christ. He is the Cure for the caiLse. 


Three beers a day for one whole year! — 
Brother, please let me have your ear! 

Let's see what this snug sum would buy, 
Kind friend and careless passerby: 

One barrel of flour, four twelve pound hams, 
Ten quarts of beans, one bushel of yams. 

Potatoes we have some bushels three, 
And soap, one hundred bars, I see. 

Crackers, corn starch, each twenty pounds, 
Help to make up these victual rounds. 

Then macaroni tubes, and rice — 
Ten pounds of each at standard price. 

Prunes and raisins, and coffee, too — 
Ten pounds of each, and not yet through. 

Three twelve pound turkeys, young and good, 
Make up this grand supply of food. 

Cranberries, of course, with turkeys go- 
Five quarts, the finest kind that grow. 

Then oranges from Florida — 
Four dozen on a silver tray. 

Ten pounds mixed candy, rich and sweet, 
This round of food supplies complete. 


Four barrels fulV. and yet there's more, 
For, as the last one we explore, 

We find a purse with pockets two. 
And each contains a treasure true. 

In one five dollars — gold piece here — 
Marked, "A new dress for mother dear." 

"Shoes for the children," thus 'tis wrote, 
Wrapped round a new ten dollar note. 

Three beers a day for one whole year! — 
Brother, please let me have your ear! 

Figure it up. Which shall it be? 
Beer? or the list of things you see? 



A leaning shanty to cover his head, 

A three legged stool and a creaking bed. 

A cupboard empty of things to eat, 
A dull red gleam on a Roman beak. 

A crazy chair with a broken back, 

A window pane out filled in with a sack. 

A clock with the hands taken off to pawn, 
A bony old hound with a lazy yawn. 

A floor without carpets or rugs or mats, 
A musty old attic for owls and bats. 



A "Home, Sweet Home" motto upside down, 
A "Little Brown Jug" just brought from town. 

A drunken orgie "with a friend or two," 

A hole in the floor where the rats come through. 

A time worn trunk without hinge or lock, 
A rusty old gun with a broken stock. 

A home where you hear no joyous sound: 
A home where a thousand woes abound. 

A home where grim Want holds sovereign sway, 
A home where the Spoiler works sure decay. 


A faded woman sad vigil keeps, 

A nameless dread through her senses creeps. 

A shuffle and fumbling at the door, 
A gleam in his eye not seen before. 

A drunken madman — Ha! snakes and toads! 
A thousand demons with fiery goads. 

A frightened child at its mother's knee, 
A Hell on earth for the luckless three. 

A dread commotion, a frightful scream, 

A blow and thud — would God 'twere a dream! 

A hatchet dripping with human gore, 
A murdered wife on the oaken floor. 

A frothing demon in human form, 

A bed all rumpled and tossed and torn. 


A fitful slumber, then half awake, 

A burning thirst naught but rum can slake. 

A shambling forth from his work of death, 
A blear eyed mortal with panting breath. 

A yard where the weeds and thistles grow, 
A path leading down to the depths of woe. 


A low saloon and a drunken brawl, 
A glint of steel and a siek'ning fall. 

A jail, a judge, and a jury box, 

A * ' guilty ' ' verdict his sad soul mocks. 

A rope and a scaffold, a long black cap, 
A hangman who springs the gallows trap. 

A cheap pine coffin of rudest make, 
A mound of earth, at his head a stake. 

A scene of horror no pen can tell — 
Another drunkard has gone to Hell I 


The brothel is inseparably linked to the rum-curse. 
The former could not exist in its vaunting form un- 
less bolstered up by the intoxicating brews of Perdi- 
tion. The "Family Entrance" and the rear wine 
room of the saloon are feeders for the lust mills 
farther down the line. Here the girl is lured and 
ruined and then flung into the foul embrace of Madam 
Passion in the Scarlet House on the Levee. God pity 
the poor drunkard reeling down the line of sin. No 
drunkard will ever reel over the gold paved streets of 
Heaven. No drunkard's song shall rasp in ribald 
discord where the love-lutes of the redeemed strike 
harmonious measure. 

That men should engage in the buying and selling 
of women in this "enlightened age" shows the de- 
plorable depths into which sin will drag them. That 
a man (?) should take from our home our fair daugh- 
ter and sell her for fifteen or twenty dollars to the 
Madam on the Levee will scarcely be believed by the 
uninformed; but it is even so. The horror of such 


a living death almost makes one reel -with madness. 
Let us draw the picture, if we can. 

Meadows and Babbling Brooks. 

It is a beautiful morning in May. A few filmy 
clouds scurry across the sky after their fast disap- 
pearing mates. A soft South wind blows across the 
meadows where cattle and sheep graze contentedly on 
the banks of a babbling brook. Along the white gravel 
road winding to the village, drawn by two gentle 
ponies, a young girl about eighteen years old is leis- 
urely driving to market in the handy-wagon. After 
the butter and eggs have been exchanged for groceries, 
she stops at the Post Office for the * ' mail, ' ' which con- 
sists of a few letters from distant relatives, several 
advertisements from the village merchants, and two 
or three newspapers. 

After the evening work is "done up," the papers 
are looked through. A certain advertisement for 
"Girls Wanted — easy work and good pay" attracts 
the eye of the young girl. Naturally ambitious to 
make her own way, the "add" holds for her unusual 
attractions. For days the matter is talked over be- 
tween herself and her mother, until finally a letter is 
written. A return reply holds out an even more 
flattering proposition. 


The beautiful green of the far rolling meadow, the 
music of the brawling brook and the quaint old farm- 
stead have suddenly lost their charms. The city 
with its smoking chimneys, roaring traffic and blind- 
ing pleasure accelerates the fever-tides of desire, and 
she plans for this easy, money-making position. 

The Father's Forebodings. 

Again the ponies draw the spring wagon over the 
white winding road to the village. Beside her sits 
father, his face betraying a not altogether pleased 
expression; but the daughter's glowing description 
of what she means to do enlivens the drooping spirits 
of the man. The cattle and sheep grazing on the 
banks of the murmuring stream occasionally look up 
as they pass, contentedly chewing their cud, and the 
lambs gambol over the sun-kissed slopes of the mea- 
dow ; but the girl sees no beauty in all this now. She 
pants for the city's rush and roar and pleasure. 

The ponies are tied near the station and father 
helps her out. Then he pulls the little leather bound 
trunk from the wagon and sets it tenderly down on 
the depot platform. Together they hasten into the 
office where he buys the ticket for her to the city. 
The half hour wait seems all too short for the man, 
but the gay little thing at his side is eager to be off. 


At last the whistle of the train is heard and soon it 
shoots around the curve. "All aboard!" shouts the 
conductor, A hasty kiss, a last loving embrace, and 
she is off for the place of her dreams. 

The Empty Home. 

As the last coach swings around the yonder bend 
the strong man wipes his eyes with his blue bandanna 
handkerchief, heaves a great sigh and turns slowly 
to his empty road wagon. With a heavy heart he 
climbs into the seat and turns the ponies' heads home- 
ward. Home ! how empty will it be now since 
she, the light of the home, is gone. For him, too, the 
meadows have lost their greenness, the lambs gam- 
bol unnoticed on the lea and the brook sighs and mur- 
murs in unison with his saddened spirits to the sea. 

While father unhitches the ponies old dog Tray 
comes limping sadly through the half-swung gate, 
in his kindly eye an enquiring look. Mother now 
hurries up to see just how she got off on her journey. 
Then the man with downcast head leads the ponies 
to the barn, mother returns to the house, and in a 
trembling voice says, "Come, Tray, old fellow! she 
is gone. We will miss her so, won 't we ? " The faith- 
ful dog wags his bushy tail, as though saying, "Yes, 
it's true! we shall miss her so!" 

The Last Farewell. 

With breaking lieart he bids his child farewell 
Enroute to languish in a living hell. 


Nearing the Toils. 

A heart beating high with hope speeds toward the 
"easy position." The click of the wheels on the rail 
ends are sweet music to her as she hurries along. Soon 
she will be where she can earn something so she can 
"help the folks at home." Her vivid imagination 
hangs beautiful pictures on the galleries of the Fu- 
ture. Mother must have help and father must not 
work so hard in his declining years. The rosy bow of 
promise hung low on the distant horizon of her future, 

A long blast and they near a suburban station. 
Here the Parmelee baggage men board the train, 
loudly calling, ' ' Baggage Checked ! " In a little while 
tall chimneys shoot by her ^vindow, and the smell of 
the Lake is borne to her on the wings of the East 
wind. The rattle and roar of the city grows louder 
and more confusing. A little trembling seizes her, 
but she must be brave now — for their sake. 

The Large Apartment House. 

At last. She crowds out with the hurrying throng 
and finds herself in one of the city's large depots. 
With satchel in hand she walks timidly along the long 
line of cabs, thoroughly confused by the shouts and 
noises incident to an incoming train. "Cab! cab! 
any part of the city ! ' ' call the line of men. Unused 


to the ways of the world, honest to the core and be- 
lieving all others so, she timidly approaches a cab 
man, shows him the ''add" and asks to be taken to 
its address. With a queer look on his face, unnoticed 
by her, he hands her into the cab, slams to the door, 
and drives, and drives, and drives — until he stops 

before a respectable looking apartment house on . 

Shall we draw the curtain and proceed no farther? 
No! let us follow her through. She has been kindly 
received and told to wait in her room and rest until 
later, when arrangements will be made as per the 
' ' add. ' ' She waits for some time when suddenly the 
door opens and she is confronted by a well-dressed 
stranger. Instinctively she draws away from his ad- 
vances. A nameless fear clutches her heart. The 
words and actions of the man make her shrink back 
with terror into the farthermost corner of the room. 
While father and mother, with old dog Tray under 
the table, are eating their lonely evening meal on the 
dear old farmstead, God pity the daughter in the 
clutches of the White Slave Trader. 

A Dozen Painted Beauties. 

Come with me now on a slumming tour. We pass 
down the line of shame stalls, stop before one and 
ring the bell. The door swings open and we see al- 

The Cab Route. 

A pander from the Madam's low retreat 
Makes ruin of onr Innocence complete. 


most a dozen "painted beauties" seated on crimson 
tufted divans. Brush the blue smoke of a dozen cigar- 
ettes aside and, through the fetid odors of stale beer, 
ribald song and lewd-flung jest, see the girl of the 
ponies, meadows, brawling brook and the far away 

The pallor of death is rouged red on her hollow 
cheek. The slender fingers twirl a half-burnt cigar- 
ette. By her side sits a being custom demands we call 
a man. He is about fifty years of age, with the leer 
of lust and foul whiskey in this bloodshot eye. A 
loose fitting coat, frayed at the seams and daubed 
with street filth from his last drunken roll in the gut- 
ter covers his leathery anatomy. A frazzle of gray 
beard adds to the general unkemptness of this Red 
Light habitue. 

A Vision of "Home, Sweet Home." 

See him now as he leers at her of the farmstead. 
An instinctive tremor of dread creeps over her al- 
ready outraged womanhood that shows in loathing 
on the still fair features of the soiled dove shrinking 
back in the shadows. A significant look from the 
watchful Madam spurs her to "business" activity. 

The lewd loveless lout leering at her side drags 
her still deeper into the depths and— then a picture 


of old dog Tray, the parting at the farmstead and 
the drooping figure on the depot platform flashes be- 
fore her tear-dimmed vision. As she lies on her couch 
of shame after the night-orgies are over the music 
of the babbling brook steals softly down the halls of 
memory and she longs for "Home, Sweet Home." 

The Sad Sequel. 

We see before us a room filled with narrow white 
beds upon which recline the White Slaves of the Red 
Light District in the last stages of their miserable 
existence. Upon one of these, with hectic flush on 
her sunken cheek and hollow chest laboring for breath, 
lies stretched and still the victim of our picture. A 
tear steals do\\Ti her fever flushed cheek and she mur- 
murs incoherent words of childhood days. In mem- 
ory she romps again over the greensward and through 
woodland glades of care free youth. The music of 
the singing brook mingles with her long drawn sigh, 
and now she cries softly to herself. Mothers, fathers, 
look upon this picture of a common occurrence 
and then ask God to finish this frightful thing that 
lies across our city without a single law in its favor. 

Her fingers work nervously with the bed clothes. 
Then she babbles of evening lullabys and sweet good- 
nights in the home-nest where the flickering twilight 

The Lonely Parents. 

Where twilight shadows fall at close of clay 
The lonely, grief-toi-Q parents kneel to pray. 


shadows play. Poor child! An ashen hue creeps up 
from the valley of death and lays its filmy mist over 
her sin-seamed features. Suddenly the white slender 
fingers clutch at some hope of support in the hour 
of dissolution and then the mists thicken. A slow 
sickening thrill and a shivering of her wasted frame 
and her soul trails out into the Great Unknown. 

The farmstead lonely days drag by and no news 
comes from the absent one. Enquiries reveal no 
trace of the lost one. The weeks drag into months, and 
the months into years ; but she who bade them a merry 
goodby that beautiful May morning sleeps in an un- 
known grave in the potter's field. Mother's tottering 
steps grow feebler fast and father 's doubtful expres- 
sion of the morning ride has given place to a wistful 
far away look; but she for whom they watch and 
wait will never return. The beautiful rose that shed 
its rich fragrance through their humble home lies 
crushed beneath the iron heel of the White Slave 



' * The evening sun went down in a broad sea of light, 
and even after it had sunk below the purple horizon, 
flashed back a flood of tremulous rose-colored radiance, 
which, taken up by a thousand filmy clouds, made the 
whole sky above like a glowing tent of ethereal bright- 
ness. The shadows of the forest aisles were pierced 
by the rose-colored rays ; and, as they gradually faded, 
star after star twinkled out, and a broad moon, ample 
and round, rose in the purple zone of the sky. 

"A large fire had been made in a cleared spot, and 
smouldering fragments and brands were lying among 
the white ashes. One or two horses were tied to a 
neighboring tree, and wagons were drawTi up by them. 
Around the fire, in different groups, lay about fifteen 
men and women, with heavy iron shackles on their 
feet, asleep in the moonlight. At a little distance from 
the group, and near to one of the wagons, a blanket 
was spread down on the ground under a tree, on Avhich 
lay a young girl of seventeen, tossing and moaning in 
a disturbed stupor. A respectable-looking mulatto 


Oi o 
2. 3 

o :; 




woman was sitting beside her with a gourd full of 
water, with which from time to time she moistened 
the young girl's forehead. The woman rose as the 
trader came up." 

The Slave Co£Be of the Trader. 

The reader will recognize the above as a quotation 
from Harriet Beecher Stowe's Dred. The slave-coffle 
of the trader is brought back from the years of mem- 
ory and we see again the nefarious system in full 
swing. But just a few years after these words were 
written by Mrs. Stowe the thunder of artillery shook 
the foundations of the unscriptural structure and a 
million men and women were made free. The kindly 
earth drank up the crimson life-tides of the Blue and 
the Gray, and the passing years have healed the wound 
and we are brothers again. 

Under the shadows of the dear old flag has sprung 
into existence a slavery that to-day outrivals in cun- 
ning and cruelty that of the Black Slave Master ; viz., 
the White Slave trade. It reaches from shore to shore 
and counts its victims by multiplied thousands. 
Abetted by corrupt politicians, aided by lust-dealing 
individuals and tolerated by a too long slumbering 
Church, the vice moves forward unchecked from con- 
quest to conquest. 


A Light or a Policeman. 

The writer once heard a lecturer say that a good 
light in a dangerous quarter was worth more than 
fifty policemen. We can see how much he prized light 
and how little confidence he had in an officer of the 
law. This applies to the Red Light District. They 
hate real Gospel light there more than they do the 
police. We are told that there is not on our statute 
books a single law legalizing the demoralizing, the 
prostitution section of Chicago. And yet we see the 
bluecoats change corners and shift tired positions from 
one foot to the other in the District with the vice ma- 
chinery in full operation twenty-four hours in the 

A Pair of Bi-Focal Glasses. 

Wlien the chief of police was approached concern- 
ing the Red Light District, he said : ' ' Wait ! I '11 show 
you what I'll do finally!" When the mayor was 
marched upon by the good women of our city he, too, 
fenced for time, and said, in substance: "Wait! I'll 
appoint a committee to investigate conditions down 
there!" We have patiently waited, but for some 
strange, unexplained reason they have done nothing 
to change conditions. Both the mayor and the chief 
of police know exactly what the conditions are and 
what the people of clean morals want, but vice goes 

Vice in the Arms of Law. 

See weak Law rhambered with the Jade of Vice, 
Taking tlie System's blood-staiued tribute-price. 


on under official tolerance. The Octopus on the Lake 
describes the vice condition of Chicago. There is no 
one better equipped to kill this vice monster than the 
mayor and his police force. Why does not he do it? 
Echo answers, W-h-y? 

The officer who would do his duty but dare not be- 
cause of the man ''higher up," has our sympathy. 
One does not need to put on a pair of bi-focal glasses 
to see that the near and the far men are very closely 
allied in their decision to let present vice conditions 
continue. Rumor says some hard things. A watchful 
eye discovers more. The Madams declare they are 
patronized by politicians, policemen, and even preach- 
ers. In this city a prominent divine ( !) was trailed 
in a cab to a respectable ( ?) resort on the Levee. 

Dame Rumor Abroad. 

Let us once for all understand that sin lies at the 
bottom of it all. "We need not be surprised that offi- 
cials who lay no particular claims to saintliness should 
wink at Lust. Neither need we grow pale when Dame 
Bumor declares that a prominent preacher rolls down 
the Levee to meet his amorous loves. It is in the heart ; 
in the blood. 

In our first chapter we charge the nominal church 
with a greater sin of negligence than the non-profes- 


sing city officials. Both are to blame for our present 
frightful vice conditions. If the mayor and his cabi- 
net wanted the vice demon chased out of Chicago, he 
would be chased out in less than twenty-four hours. 
And if the officials remain inactive, then the Church 
can drive the demon from our city. How? Get a 
few drums and flags, and under a Christ-united cry 
march into these vice sections and beat it into them 
that they must leave. Keep it up. Swing the Gospel 
light. Never quit until the "Madams" and "boun- 
cers" and "panderers" and "procurers" and "ca- 
dets" and "regulars" and "pimps" see you mean 
business. When the officials ' ' higher up ' ' see that the 
Church is determined to root out this evil they will 
send orders down the line that will remove from this 
city this illegal curse— the Octopus on the Lake — the 
Red Light District. 

Religion on Parade. 

But what shall be done with the poor Slaves who are 
in the toils of this worse-than-death life? Here is a 
problem that might tax an angel, but we believe it 
can be mastered. First, open the prison stall of every 
girl who is held there against her will. Let the Church 
who so glibly sings "Rescue the Perishing" now put 
into practice her song. Here is work indeed for her 


to do. These poor girls need to be told that Jesus 
loves them more than a mother. But, at the same 
time, do not forget their temporal needs. They are 
not wanted by respectable ( !) people. Will you care 
for them now? Presuming that you have drummed 
the vice district clear, are you willing now to call her 
your sister, erring though she may have been? Sal- 
vation in action is quite different than religion on 
dress parade. Provide homes for these poor girls, 
without so much stressing the "rescue" part of it. 
When you provide for her physical comforts she will 
listen to you in spiritual instruction. When the 
Church gets under this burden as Christ did when He 
wept over Jerusalem we will be surprised how many 
of our fallen daughters will be rescued. 

Salvation in Action. 

We concede there would be some characters whom 
safety demands should be placed in jail. But even 
here we must not forget her. She is some mother's 
child. Some one is weeping for her in the old home- 
stead. Show her that you love her. Do not pretend. 
If you cannot love her, get alone with God somewhere 
and ask Him to kill you out to your abominable spiri- 
tual pride. When you have struck bottom you will 


be able to love her even as Christ loved you. This is 
what the fallen woman wants — real love. 

In her book, The Underworld Sewer, Josie Wash- 
burn, who speaks from years of experience, says: "A 
kind word spoken to us, a look of sympathy bestowed 
upon one of us, an act of kindness toward one of us, 
or a sentence which shows that there is a brighter side 
to life ; such interest expressed by a woman whose soul 
has not been tarnished, are messages of love that are 
repeated again and again to associates in the under- 
world. It does more toward reforming our girls than 
all the punishment meted out to us, and all the prayers 
offered up in our favor from the pulpit and the pews. 

"We have a high regard for a respectable woman, 
and if she chance to meet us, and would treat us with 
such consideration, she would he cherished as a guar- 
dian angel, and in our trials and sorrows, that hind 
act woidd remain as a guiding star. Such is the un- 
derstanding of real Christianity by the underworld 
woman; and no other can have any effect upon her. 
The professional way of reforming is a mighty cold- 
Wooded affair." 

Dying for Love. 

The words of this precious woman exactly tally with 
the trend of this book, and with what Christ teaches. 
They do not want our crusts of sympathy doled out 


to them from the back door of our church. They want 
to know and feel that we love them. This and this 
alone will win back to us our erring daughters. How 
we should like to see a concerted move toward the 
attainment of such an ideal. 

Lest we forget, we should like, also, to deal with the 
problem concerning the men rounded up on the levees 
of vice. True, they still move in the best society, no 
matter how deep their social crimes have been, while 
our erring sisters are spurned and ostracised; this 
should not be so. Yielding to sin has made them 
largely responsible for our prevailing vice conditions. 
A white cravat, a pair of polished shoes, together with 
polished manners has too long been their passport 
among us. If our standard of action toward our er- 
ring sisters is correct, then must we apply it to our 
fallen brothers. Scripture makes no such discrimina- 
tion, however, for which we thank God and take cour- 

Gather the youth shackled by the chains of sin and 
vice from the White Slave centers and tell them of 
Jesus. Send them back to mother. Those who are in 
need of temporal help must be provided for in a prac- 
tical way. Those who are persistently bent toward 
sin and ruin must be placed behind bars and there 
taught obedience to law. They must be told, also, that 
Christ can save them to the uttermost. 


"Rounding Up" the Men. 

This infernal discrimination between the sexes has 
been detrimental to real progress. One who has tasted 
the dregs of this spirit pertinently asks : " Is there any 
reason why the man who pays the woman money to 
send her soul to Perdition shall be respected, while the 
woman who from necessity accepts the donation, shall 
go to jail, or be driven into the District?" She makes 
a master stroke as she continues : ' ' Try ' rounding up ' 
and jailing the men once in a while." 

Right here, before we leave this subject, we call at- 
tention to another high crime the public seems to have 
lost sight of. It has been decreed by our wise city 
authorities that the woman in the District must be 
examined periodically by a physician. Such examina- 
tion cards may be consulted by the male habitue who 
frequents the resorts. This is done, they tell us, to 
guard against contracting and spreading dangerous 
diseases. Very good for such commendable ( ? ) fore- 
thought. Now tell us, ye wise ( !) rulers, who ex- 
amines the men, and where may we consult their clean 
nil of health? 

Eighty Cases a Day. 
Several years ago the writer and his brother 
strangely happened into a physician's office whose 
work was not exactly clear to us. After being ushered 


through a large room with rows and rows of leather- 
covered chairs against the wall we finally came into 
the private workroom of the noted practitioner. The 
office was littered and crowded with unnamable in- 
struments, the use of which we cannot describe. Al- 
though the hour was growing late, two men were still 
in the large waiting room hoping to receive "treat- 
ment." After the usual formal introductions were 
over, he said: "Gentlemen, if you are in search of 
striking 'cases,' I can furnish you with some very 
remarkable ones ? ' ' Being assured we would take ad- 
vantage of his kind offer should we need them, we 
asked : 

"Doctor, how many 'cases' do you handle daily?" 
"My average run," said he, "is eighty cases." 
The lewd woman is forced to display in her resort 
her card certifying to her physical condition, while 
the lewd man may sneak off up State Street or other 
places and seek to rid himself of a disease already 
contracted, or worse still, carry it abroad to drinking 
cup or towel or — some pure girl. The whole thing is 
a farce. Our danger lies not so much in the fallen 
women as it does in the fallen men. 

"Indiscreet" Man Our Daughters' Foe. 
Not long ago a prominent business man in Chicago 
told the writer that in past years he had been "in- 


discreet" (note the glib, harmless appearing word), 
and had been under a physician's "treatment" for 
two years without any noticeable sign of improve- 
ment. Finally, tiring of this endless strain, he sought 
the advice of another physician, who seemed to suc- 
ceed in at least curbing, if not curing the dreaded 
disease. * ' But, ' ' said he, boldly and unblushingly, ' ' I 
know that I will never be entirely 'cured' or rid of 
that awful disease contracted years ago. I am told 
that it may break out at any time, or appear in follow- 
ing generations." For God's sake, let us get beyond 
our false and simpering modesty and look this na- 
tional evil squarely in the face! 

If one physician in Chicago treated eighty cases in 
a day, how many did other physicians treat ? Can you 
not see that even though our daughters are pure, they 
face the awful fact and peril that many men are 
not; and the diseases they did not contract in the 
brothel because of a chaste life, they may yet contract 
from him who has been a frequenter of the Red Light 


At ten o'clock (May 3, 1910) a band of seven left 
the Bible Rescue Mission, 90 "West Madison Street, to 
slum the district lying west of Halsted on Madison. 
We had seen and heard the testimony of God's mira- 
cles of grace, viz., John Stewart, Superintendent of 
the Mission and Dick Lane, the one time all-round 
notorious crook and safe blower. With a strong Irish 
accent John Stewart announced : " I am goin ' to read 
the Fairst Psalm, an' it's a daundy!" Under the 
harmonious flavor of a peculiar soft modulation of 
voice lay a deep undercurrent of pathos and love for 

When John Stewart is gone we shall still hear the 
low rich and musical play of his words as he quaintly 
commented on his lesson. Fast nearing the seventieth 
milestone of his life he nightly tells men that Jesus 
can save them. They listen to and believe in him. 
God bless him! 

The Smile That Wears. 

Then came a twenty minute testimony by Dick 
Lane. The old man wears the smile that never comes 



off. He sits on his chair lightly, always ready and 
eager to tell what the Lord has done for him. When 
his turn came he nimbly jumped to his feet, his eye 
(he has but one, the other being glass) sparkling and 
his face wreathed in a glory smile he told in simple 
language how real salvation had changed a crook into 
an honest, respected man. His experience, of course 
much abreviated, appears elsewhere in this work. 

The night was raw and chilly as we left the Mission. 
The yellow glare of a thousand electric lights and the 
raucous night noises made it seem we were entering 
the borders of Dante's Inferno. 

A casual observer would scarcely have discovered 
the "West Side vice dens, but to those who knew the 
earmarks of Madam Vice it was easy to tell where 
her chattels were stalled. One after another haunt 
was entered, tracts distributed and, wherever expedi- 
ent, the inmates urged to leave the old life for the 
better one in Christ. 

Flight after flight of stairs were climbed and den 
after den entered, and yet there were more. Fifty or 
more were visited between the hours of ten and one 
o 'clock. We had by this time worked the intersecting 
streets, Peoria, Green, etc., as far north as Lake Street 
and numbers of blocks south. Many places, solid half 
blocks at times, were passed by for safety's sake. 


The slum tour closed at Paulina Street. How far 
west the dens stretched time forbade us discover, and 
how far the cross streets were infested north and 
south we were not permitted to determine that night. 
We were convinced, however, that "segregation" of 
vice is a dismal failure in Chicago. 

Blocks of Shame Stalls. 

There is a marked difference between the West Side 
vice section and the Red Light District of Twenty- 
second Street. The segregated feature is more in evi- 
dence on the South Side and Lust more vaunting. 
The absence of that frightful tapping on the window 
pane and the bold solicitations of the enchantress was 
conspicuously absent in our West Side tour. How- 
ever, the inside shame-stall settings were in every re- 
spect similar to that of the South Side system. 

On one cross street near Madison Street stood an 
imposing five-story hotel. Its general appearance and 
peculiar arrangement aroused suspicion. The band 
climbed the first entrance flight of steps leading to 
the first floor and, sure enough, there was the tran- 
som sign, "Office, Hotel A ." 

Not yet satisfied, the workers retraced their steps 
and entered a side door leading to the basement apart- 
ments. There, in rooms most luxuriously furnished 


sat six or eight beautiful young girls, their faces yet 
fresh in the beginning of the life. The Madam 
greeted the leader with a feigned welcome as he ex- 
claimed, "Ah, here you are! I had been wondering 
where you had gone ! ' ' He had met her elsewhere in 
his slum work as an old hand at the business, hence 
the familiar greeting. 

Hotel White Slave Trap. 

A glance at the chattels revealed that this was a 
"house" of "fresh goods," held for the more ex- 
clusive. Every evidence lent color to the fact that 
this imposing structure with its basement full of beau- 
tiful girls, its hotel office blind, and the "Furnished 
Rooms" on the upper floors was especially favored by 
a corrupt city administration. No doubt agents and 
advertisements run for hundreds of miles out of the 
city, saying: "When you go to Chicago, be sure to 
visit the Hotel A ." 

The chief of police had issued orders that no in- 
toxicating liquors must be sold or seen in all houses 
of prostitution after the first of May. The effect in 
the dens was marvelous. Comparative quiet reigned. 
When they had had their "booze" a few sips set 
them going, and they did not care what they said or 
what they did. But to-night they sat aimlessly about, 


busied over some bit of fancy work, or looking dis- 
couragingly into the future. This proves that liquor 
and lust are twins. The constant assertion of the 
Madams was that success was impossible without 
liquor. This should encourage our W. C. T. U. and 
Prohibition people to redouble their efforts to knock 
out the liquor demon. In doing this it will be a long 
step toward cleaning out our vice sections. 

No Beer and High Rent. 

One Madam on Madison Street lamented the fact 
that she could not now continue her business since the 
liquor restriction and the climbing rents. Some one 
asked : 

"How many girls have you?" 

"I have only two," was her reply. 

"How many rooms have you here?" was the next 

"Twelve, but only ten I can use." 

"How much rent do you pay?" asked Mr. Clark- 

Unhesitatinrly she replied, "I began here about 
seven years ago and paid thirty dollars a month rent. 
To-day I pay eighty-five dollars, and they threaten to 
raise it to one hundred dollars. I bought this winter 
two ton of coal every ten days to heat my rooms. 


"When the chief of police issued the no-liquor order, I 
determined not to pay the exorbitant rent. I told the 
landlord I would pay only sixty dollars after the first 
of May; no more. He answered he guessed we 
wouldn 't quarrel about that. Yesterday when I asked 
the agent whether I was to pay at the rate of sixty 
dollars a month, he answered : "No ! you are to pay 
the old rate!" 

Here sat a cold-blooded Madam before us who 
talked as calmly of her business as though she were 
dealing in hogs and cattle. Her source of income con- 
sisted of "two girls." Her rent was eighty- five dol- 
lars a month. Her winter coal bill to heat her rooms 
cost about fourteen dollars every ten days, or about 
forty dollars a month. Her gas bill would undoubt- 
edly exceed ten dollars a month. The grocery bill 
would greatly add to the already large bills. On top 
of this would come the bills for shoes, to say nothing 
of gaudy dress, etc. The very best figures we dare 
recognize as conservative would run her monthly ex- 
pense bill to one hundred fifty or two hundred dol- 
lars. The two girls' earnings, besides their own per- 
centage, paid the hills, with a large lap for profit. 

A Shoe Seller's Story. 
The luxurious furnishings in many of these places 
would dazzle our common people. If two girls bring 


in such heavy revenues as we are led to deduce (the 
Madam said she had a brisk trade), what must the 
returns be where we find from six to a dozen soiled 
doves in the lust parlors of our city? Figures and 
facts are stubborn things. We continue: 

A shoe seller in the Red Light District said a Madam 
had come into his store and selected ten pair of shoes 
of ordinary price, and had paid him ten dollars a pair 
for them. At least five dollars a pair, or fifty dollars 
on the whole, was a secret understood silence bribe 
from the Madam to the shoe seller to help foster the 
damnable thing. The last we heard he was still selling 
shoes at the old stand, and the Madams were buying 
them. It is safe to say that the shoe man is never 
heard testifying to holiness, nor is he even noted for 
his piety. He probably contends that "segregation" 
is a good thing? 

We rang a certain door bell on a long stair landing 
on Madison Street. A shuffle and commotion on the 
inside told us that they were getting out of the way 
some things not to be seen by those admitted. They 
know by the peculiar twist of the bell crank or touch 
of the button that some one other than a "customer" 
is at the door. Presently the door was opened and we 
passed in. The ladies at once handed the Madam 
tracts. * ' My girls are all out to-night, and I am here 


alone," said she. Mr. Clarkson took a Judgment tract 
and stuck it into a man 's hat band lying on the piano, 
saying as he did so: "When he comes out he may 
read it." Although the Madam had laid on a very 
heavy coat of rouge, her face was a puzzle at this 
statement. She saw she had been caught. Just then 
a girl's smothered cough in an adjoining room put the 
finishing stroke to the Madam's lie, and she coldly 
bowed us out. 

Samson at Delilah's Feet. 

In another place visited that night we found two 
specimens sitting, the one busied with bright-colored 
finery, the other attending to ''visitors." In a tufted 
settee near the highly painted harlot, sat an intelli- 
gent, portly man who seemed bent on opening a con- 
versation. His well worded language betrayed cul- 
ture of a high degree. Said he : "I have a little girl 
at home. My wife is dead. For some time I sent my 
little daughter to Sunday School, but I learned that 
her lady teacher drank whiskey on the sly, so I took 
her out. I am disgusted with that sort of thing ! ' ' 

That Sunday School teacher's traitorous act had 
painted religion in distorted colors, and he turned 
away from it in disgust. Instead of being at home 
with his ' ' little girl, ' ' he sat at the feet of the Delilalis 

A Brothel Service. 

Kneeling with one amidst the strife and din, 
Tliey seek to lead lier from the paths of sin. 


of Sorek. Like Samson of old, he went out, and wist 
not that his strength had departed from him. What 
an awful awakening at the Judgment there will be 
when the Sunday School teacher, the man of culture 
and the painted women meet to square life 's accounts. 
In the meantime the Christless nominal church crowd, 
the cultured habitue and his scarlet paramour keep 
lock-step to Perdition. 

As we left, the gaudily dressed woman with the 
bright-colored sewing coughed, and then laughed as 
she made some light remark. The fatal "wheeze" 
from her fast decaying lungs told us that only a short 
time longer would she sit in her place when she would 
be done with "the life." A great wave of pity swept 
over the writer as he left the place with the lost in- 
mates and their cultured visitor. A picture of Christ 
weeping over Jerusalem flashed out from the past, 
and the question, What can be done? thrummed on 
the soul's tense-drawn senses. 

How Can We Save Her? 
From stall to stall we wend our sad way, each full 
of the inhabitants of Lust. The discordant notes of 
their self-playing instruments drown the voice of con- 
science, and the slow pains of a living death eat their 
way along the nerve strands of their polluted, wasting 
mortality. Such is the life of a harlot. 


As we returned to our home at three o'clock in the 
morning the awful burden of this Twentieth Century 
sin lay heavily upon us. Before we closed our eyes in 
sleep our heart ached for the poor unfortunates so 
few care to save. Our first waking thoughts took up 
the sad lament. As we write we pray that God may 
raise up a work among the holy people, free from 
sectional isms, that shall reach the unfortunates in 
the Red Light Districts of our great cities. Only those 
who really have the Pentecostal equipment are fitted 
to work in the slums of our city. If these would go 
into these "highways and hedges" with the heavenly 
equipment, this politically intrenched vice monster 
will be slain. 

We believe that if all false modesty were laid aside 
by even "holiness people" and the unction of the 
Holy One be upon them our cities would be rid of 
this curse. The writer contends that the sweet story 
of the Cross told by those who have learned in its 
shadows will be effective. As Brother Bud Robinson 
so often says, "With one arm around Jesus and the 
other around a lost world," we shall succeed. Re- 
member, Jesus said, "And I, if I be lifted up from 
the earth, will draw all men unto me" (John 8:33.). 
Those who substitute the word drive for the word 
draw, fail. 


The steady tramp of belated shoppers and theatre 
folk still beat in rhythmic time on the cement flagged 
pavement. The glow and glare of a thousand electric 
lights fell on the hurrying throngs and costly displays 
of merchandise in the windows of Siegel, Cooper & 
Co.'s large department store, Chicago. From the op- 
posite side of the street a man lurched toward a little 
band of White Cross Midnight Missionaries stationed 
here. For some time he respectfully listened to them 
as they sang and testified and preached the power of 
the Cross. Approaching one of their number he asked 
the privilege to speak to some one on a matter of great 
importance. Whether he was genuine or not, it was 
evident that the man was in some sort of trouble. 

Stating his case briefly, he said : " I have a wife who 
has deserted me. To-night she lives somewhere in the 
rows of saloons and dives on the Levee. When I heard 
you pray and sing and tell about how God can save 
us from sin, I thought you might help me to find my 
wife and persuade her to return with me to my 



The Girl Wife on the Levee. 

Not so much for the man 's sake, whose story seemed 
questionable, but for her sake who was in the deadly 
clutch of the Vice Demon, assistance was promised. 
As suspected, it was learned later that the man had 
been divorced from a former companion because of 
incompatibility ( ! ) . Employed as a pab driver, he 
had afterward met this girl and married her. Some 
of his daughters from his first companion were nearly 
as old as the girl wife who had deserted him. But 
she had a never-dying soul, hence an effort must be 
made to save her. * ' For the Lion of Judah can break 
every chain!" 

The search for the young woman was immediately 
begun. Her rendezvous was soon found and a note 
left inviting her to call at the missionary's home on 
a certain date. At the appointed hour all were anx- 
iously waiting for her to come, each wondering 
whether she might not disappoint them as such char- 
acters so often do. But soon footsteps were heard ap- 
proaching, followed by a timid knock. As Mrs. Clark- 
son opened the door a beautiful young woman stepped 
in. Her hands and face were pinched and blue from 
exposure to the cutting wintry winds. She had on 
neither gloves nor muffler, and shivered as the warm 
air struck her. 


Mrs. Clarkson invited her to sit near the stove to 
warm and sought to make her feel at home. She took 
the proffered chair and sat down by the fire. With 
an oath about the bitter cold weather she asked if 
there was any beer in the house. Surprised when in- 
formed that they did not drink beer, she asked for a 
cup of hot tea. The tea was soon steeped and Mrs. 
Clarkson retired with her to the kitchen. 

The Sermon at the Tea Table. 

As they sat up to the tea table, she asked : ' ' How do 
you manage to keep yourself so young?" This ques- 
tion directed the conversation into salvation channels. 
She was told how the grace of God makes the old look 
young ; how Heaven 's cosmetics far outrival the drugs 
and nostrums of the world; how a sanctified heart 
makes a beautiful face; how the haggard, careworn 
expression disappears from the countenance when the 
Prince of Glory comes in; how divine power trans- 
forms the sinner and preserves the footsteps of them 
that fear Him. The influence of the spell was weaving 
its charms around her. 

The little sermon at the tea table held the listener 
in its power while she sipped her tea. No one knows 
of the struggle in poor Nellie 's breast as she caught a 
glimpse of better days. The old life held nothing but 


sorrow and shame, but here flashed before her mind 
a life clean and beautiful. Should she embrace the 
welcoming hand extended to her, or should she go 
back to the dives on the Levee? 

The Octopus on the Lake. 

Still she wavered, still she debated, still she won- 
dered what to do. Suddenly the slimy tantacle of the 
Octopus on the Lake drew on her strength with a 
sickening thrill and she slipped back into its fatal 
embrace. Hul'riedly she arose from her chair and said 
she must be going. Every entreaty of the husband 
( ?) and missionaries to remain with them over night 
was turned aside ; she was going. Just as she reached 
the door Mr. Clarkson flung himself at her feet and 
begged her to remain until they had knelt together in 
prayer. Immediately he poured out his heart to God 
in her behalf. Once more the Two Voices played al- 
ternately on the senses of her soul. Once more the 
rosy hope of a new life flashed before her awakening 
mind. As the man of God prayed Hell sent a thou- 
sand demon reinforcements, and the battle was lost. 
Her will had decided and the attending angels winged 
their sad flight back to the realms of bliss. 

Fearful that they might lose so lovely a prize, it 
was thought she had been accompanied by someone 

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from the Levee District who had waited outside. The 
poor creature's nervous actions pointed to such a con- 
clusion. God knows the forces of evil employed to 
keep her in the toils. He employed every effort to 
save her, but she would not. However, before she left 
she promised to meet the man who claimed to be her 
husband in a certain department store in the city. She 
also agreed to return to his home after he should pur- 
chase for her certain articles of clothing she was in 
need of. With this she went out into the howling 
storm and the sin and the ruin. 

Tricked at the Steamer Dock. 

Upon the appointed time they met as had been 
agreed. The clothes were purchased. Besides this, he 
gave her a roll of money. Under the pretext that she 
must go to a certain place before she could finally go 
with him she left him waiting for her at the steamer 
dock. With the tickets for their short voyage across 
the lake to his home in his pockets he waited. But he 
waited in vain. She never came back. He had been 
tricked out of his money and now he must return 
without her. 

Before she had left the house that cold winter day 
Mr. Clarkson had told her that he and his wife were 
her friends; that if at any time she got into trouble 


to let them know and they would help her. Not many 
weeks had gone by when Mrs. Clarkson received a 
card from the County Jail stating that she had been 
arrested. She closed with the hope that they would 
come to see her. As soon as possible they repaired to 
the jail and found her behind the bars. As she came 
forward to speak to them, she said: "Oh, Mr. Clark- 
son ! you did not expect to see me here, did you ? ' ' 

Red Light Watch Dogs. 

She told them she had been arrested for robbing a 
man of forty dollars, but was sure she could beat him 
at the trial. She begged Mr. and Mrs. Clarkson to 
be at the court on the day her case was to be tried 
to take her home with them in order that she might 
break away from her old companions and associations, 
and thus be saved from her wretchedness. Several 
times before this she had escaped the slums, but al- 
ways stood in fear and terror of the alderman. In his 
ward is the largest Red Light District and White 
Slave Quarter in the world. He had constantly kept 
his sleuth hounds at her heels. "When she got into 
trouble at the police stations he bailed her out. Her 
beauty of face and graceful form had kept her under 
the vigilant surveillance of his Red Light watch dogs. 
She declared they were always sure to follow her to 


take her back into the life of White Slavery. Every 
time she would wind up the same old way. Gradually 
she slipped down the rungs of the ladder. 

The System, safe under a winking police force, plied 
its trade of death and destruction boldly. The weak 
protests of a weaker church was met with profound 
contempt by the gang. The heavy blows delivered on 
the Levee by a few of God's White Cross Missionaries 
were often turned aside by methods known and stooped 
to only by the most lawless element that ever walked 
the earth. It seems the Devil has controlling power of 
the situation. Unless there is an awakening soon we 
shall yet see a greater calamity than was the visitation 
of God's wrath upon San Francisco. When once 
God's day of mercy closes this nest of vipers will feel 
the bolts of His displeasure and crash into the yawn- 
ing mouth of Hell. 

Wincing under the truth of this statement that such 
a condition was tolerated by a corrupt city govern- 
ment, Mr. Clarkson promised to meet her on the day 
of her trial. Before they left they commended her to 
Him who knows every heartache of His erring chil- 
dren. God knew of the beating heart behind the 
prison bars. In spite of human ostracism and blame. 
He loved her still. He was waiting to put His arms 
of tender love aroimd her to carry her back to the 


innocent days of childhood. He was waiting to put 
into her heart a power that no tool of Hell could 
overthrow — if only she would yield to His loving en- 

Found Dead in Bed. 

The day of trial came, but through some trick of the 
enemy Mr. Clarlison and his wife were just a few min- 
utes too late to meet the girl. She had been discharged 
and had left the station with some of her old friends. 
This was the last time they heard of her for some 
time. Of course, as is always the case, she was ad- 
dicted to the use of cigarettes, morphine, cocaine and 
liquor. In spite of her youth and all that could be 
done to turn her back she lived in the worst kind of 
vice and sin. One day Mr. Clarkson was handed a 
little clipping from a daily paper. It read as follows : 

* ' Nellie W was found dead in bed in her room 

at No. , State Street. Supposed to have com- 
mitted suicide by taking an overdose of morphine. 
Has a husband and little boy in St. Louis," etc. 

Mr. Clarkson and his wife hurriedly boarded a car, 
fearful that this was the Nellie they had been dealing 
with. When they arrived at the number they found 
it to be a large saloon with a brothel in the rear, and 
* * Furnished Rooms ' ' overhead. In one of these room J 
Nellie had been found dead. 


As they came in the Madam wanted to know their 
business. When they told her she requested them to 
speak in low tones as she did not want the other girls 
in the place disturbed. They were sitting around 
smoking and drinking seemingly with no thought of 
the coming Judgment in mind. To keep them in shape 
for "business," they must not hear any talk of Nel- 
lie's sad death. These things threw a gloom over the 
girls that made them ugly and morose. It would drive 
away custom. Custom brought dollars, although dol- 
lars brought death, and death brought damnation. 

On the Rim of Ruin. 

Heigho, ye fiends infernal! congenial associates of 
this nefarious trade, we bid you welcome here. The 
smoke of the Pit impregnates our squalid apartments 
and soothes our troubled senses as we loll on the rim of 
ruin. From sin-encrusted lips we blow the blue vapors 
of death, drawn from Turkish coffin spikes, into your 
peering, ghostly visage. As we quaff the high licensed 
brews of Bacchus our mortal senses thrum and our 
brain reels under the mad spell of passion that no 
human indulgence can assuage. The mortuary, the 
pauper's field and the Hereafter strangely disturb our 
sensual meditations. The curtain of the future must 
Bot be lifted, nor the pwaishment of the lost be dragge4 


to the fore as the price of our infamy. With our de- 
graded mortality on the rack of dissolution and our 
lost spirits already in the throes of terror because of 
an approaching day of reckoning, speak not to us in 
such a place and at such a time as this of death, Hell 
and the Judgment. 

Mr. and Mrs. Clarkson asked the Madam to allow 
them to see the room in which Nellie had died. She 
gave them the key and told them to go upstairs and 
look. There they were informed that she had been 
taken to the morgue. Soon they were at the place and 
asked to see the girl they had tried so hard to save. 
The undertaker granted their request and took them 
into the room where the dead girl lay. 

To judge by his actions then, one would infer that 
he was an extremely kind-hearted man. How often 
are our inferences founded on the saintly actions of 
individuals whom we later find to have been wolves in 
sheep's clothing. Humanity is a total failure without 
the grace of God. Education, culture, morality, 
churchianity, invention, vaunted progress, prohibi- 
tion, abstinence, the Keeley Cure, Reform Homes and 
a thousand other things without grace fail when man 
comes face to face with sin. God alone can so change 
the heart that man may stand in the teeth of everj 
temptation. When will men learn that a heart made 

In the Morgue. 

There, on a marble slab, the harlot, dead, 
Lies with a cobble stone beneath her head. 


clean by the transforming grace of God is the only 
safeguard against sin ? 

A Cobble Stone for a Pillow. 

Several bodies lay in the room covered with sheets 
waiting for some one to claim them lest they go to 
the operating table or to the unknown grave. Among 
them they found Nellie. The undertaker removed the 
sheet. There, on a common marble slab, with a cobble- 
stone under her head for a pillow, lay "some mother's 
girl" — N'ellie. A yellow express tag was tied to her 
toe. Would some one claim her and give her a decent 
burial? or must she find her way to some medical dis- 
secting room where sin-hardened students fling coarse 
jokes over her outraged remains ? 

As the young man pulled back the sheet and turned 
on the electric light that hung just over her head the 
beautiful face that had been the curse of her life was 
beautiful still. The lone missionaries at her side 
thought of all she might have been. Their tears fell 
like rain. The undertaker, accustomed to harrowing 
scenes like this by years of experience, brushed the 
moisture from his eyes, and said: "It's too badi She 
was a beautiful girl ! ' * 

Just a few days before she had been in these un- 
dertaking rooms to look at another dead girl who had 


been taken there ; now she lay here herself. Strange 
indeed were the culminating incidents of this poor 
girl's death. Her loose brown hair hung uncombed 
over the rough cobblestone picked up in the street. 
Her thin white hands lay still by her side on the 
marble slab. The ugly red mark down her breast 
made by the surgeon's knife in the post mortem ex- 
amination, now roughly drawn together by occasional 
stitches, added pathos to the tragic death of the lonely 
girl. The examination had revealed her lungs wasted 
away by the ravages of the Great White Plague. 

The Undertaker's Story. 

As the missionaries turned to leave, the under- 
taker furnished another leaf in the sad history of this 
child of shame. He said some time ago he had been 
in a house of ill fame where he saw Nellie. She had 
asked him to buy her a drink, but he had refused. 
As he turned to the door to leave the room she barred 
his exit and threw her arms around his shoulders. 
While in this attitude he caught her trying to steal his 
diamond shirt stud. Drawing back he struck her a 
brutal blow in the eye and knocked her against the 
wall. ( The public at large still patronizes this viper. ) 
Several days after this incident she came to his under- 
takipg rooms to loolj at one of her dea^ sistera in siq, 


She recognized him as her visitor of several nights 
before, but did not speak. In deep thought, she stood 
for a moment looking upon the form of the dead har- 
lot, and then passed out. Her eye was still black from 
the blow he had given her. Little did she think that 
only a few days later would find her in the same under- 
taking rooms on a marble slab, with a sheet for a 
covering and a cobble stone for a pillow. Surely, "the 
wages of sin is death." 

Draw the sheet back over the beautiful form. Leave 
her to her undisturbed slumber. Shed a kindly tear 
for our erring sister who so sadly missed the path 
of righteousness. Send up a prayer to a long suffer- 
ing Christ that this nefarious traffic in virtue may re- 
ceive its death-blow. Oh, what if my girl were lying 
there? What if your girl met such a fate? Arouse, 
ye slumbering churchmen ! Awake, ye sleeping do- 
nothings! Here our nation's girls die in the slave- 
coffles of the trader. Insist on the enforcement of 
laws that will strike from our fair daughters the 
shackles of shame ! Put to death quickly a corrupt 
officialdom, and let our girls be free. Open the nar- 
row windows of their prison stalls and let them know 
our Christ. His "go and sin no more" will restore 
them to lives of respectability and give them a home 
in Heaven. It may be your neighbor's daughter 
dowB there, What if it were your own? 


No Friends in Death. 

When asked whether any one had been to see about 
the remains, Mr. Clarkson was told that several hus- 
bands (?) had been telegraphed. Her parents, who 
were supposed to be good Presbyterians, had also 
been notified, but no one had offered to do anything 
regarding the burial. He next asked whether the 
man he thought was her husband had been notified. 
The man answered that he had not notified him. After 
all, not one nickel would her friends (?) and hus- 
bands (?) who lived with her, and loved (?) her, 
give to bury her. They had been very attentive to 
her while she was alive, but now that she was dead, 
they bestowed their love upon another. She who had 
been the beautiful and sought after in life, could not 
find one in death to give her decent burial. Poor 
child ! 

Her parents sent word that they had been deceived 
into sending money for her burial once before, hence 
they would not do anything. Her downfall, as far as 
could be learned, came about as follows: She had 
been married when but a child, and soon became the 
mother of a beautiful baby. Later she lost her hus- 
band, and then took desperately ill. During her ill- 
ness she was attended by a physician who prescribed 
for her morpl^iiie, which led her to become addicted to 


the habit. AVhen her baby died she began to drift. 
She fell into the hands of unscrupulous men who 
wanted her for her beauty of face and symmetry of 
form. They wanted her where the low sound of the 
dulcet keeps time to the pulse 's fevered beating. The 
Octopus soon had its tentacle thrown around her, and 
the sad sequel in the morgue closed her life's last 

Absolutely under the influence of the drug she 
would pick pockets whenever opportunity afforded. 
Again and again she was sent to jail. Other habits 
fastened upon her until she reached the last rung in 
the moral ladder. The marred piece of beautiful 
clay reposed on a slab in the undertaker's establish- 
ment and her soul had gone to meet God. 

This is only one case among many who drift toward 
such a doom in the city of Chicago. Thirty thousand 
women in this city alone are adrift on the sea of social 
sin. Multiply this by twenty (and safely more), and 
you have the number of degenerate and diseased men 
who are keeping step by their side on the downward 
tramp to Hell. 

Whether Nellie died as the paper stated or whether 
she was murdered makes little difference to a cor- 
rupt city government, or to the passing pleasure 


seeker. "On with the dance! Let joy be uncon- 
fined ! " is the cry of lust-filled humanity. Our lovely 
daughters must be sold to swell the bank account of 
the White Slave Trader. 


To-day, the mother in her home, the father at his 
business, are confronted by a new problem, which they 
know not how to solve. Words are acquiring new 

The nomenclature of the under-world invades the 
sheltered home. Let us illustrate by relating recent 
actual occurrences in an average home. 

It was evening, the mother was sewing, the children 
were reading, the father at the lodge and two older 
daughters at a party. John, aged ten, looked up from 
his daily paper and said: "What does prostitution 
mean, mamma, and what is a White Slave?" 

Startled, the mother hesitated over her reply, '^Vhy, 
I suppose it is a white person that is bought and sold," 
she said. 

John rattled his paper as if not quite enlightened 
and Mary, aged twelve, began: 

"Mother, what is ihe great Black Plague?" 

"Why, daughter, what are you reading?" 

"Just The Ladies^ Home Journal, mother, and it 


says that the great Black Plague is killing more people 
than the White Plague, tuberculosis, but it don't tell 
what the Black Plague is/' 

The mother was glad to hear voices in the hall, and 
the two older girls, entering, diverted Mary's notice. 

By the flushed cheeks and angry eyes, mother knew 
there was trouble before the older girl, Nellie, ex- 
claimed : "Mother, don't ever ask me to go anywhere 
again, with that kid, till she knows something! I was 
so mortified I thought I should drop !" 

Cadets, and What They Are. 

"What did she do?" asked the mother, encircling 
with her arm the now sobbing younger girl, Bessie. 

"She talked about 'Cadets,' and said she thought 
they were just splendid, and she wished we knew some, 

"Cadets !" echoed the mother, bewildered. 

"Yes," sobbed Bess, aroused to her own defense, "and 
I had a perfect right to say it. She needn't dictate what 
I shall say, even if she is three years older. Of course 
cadets are nice, at least Cousin Harry is, at Annapolis, 
he looked so fine in his uniform !" 

The mother looked again to JSTellie. "But, don't you 
know, mother, that 'cadet' means a bad man who gets 
his living by enticing girls into evil lives ? The precep- 


tress had a meeting with all the high school girls, and 
she told us never to use the word, and never, never to 
talk with a stranger, even with a lady, in any place." 

*'But how was I to know?" stormed Bess, ''and you 
rushed me away from the party as if I was a naughty 
five-year-old. Besides, I don't believe it, anyway, till 
I see it in the dictionary." 

John already had the huge volume open on the table, 
and read out : "Cadet : A younger son of a noble house. 
A student at a military or naval academy." 

"There ! I knew I was right !" cried Bess. 

Mary, who had been a silent, wide-eyed listener ever 
since the girls entered, here flourished a daily paper and 
said, "Listen, let me read this : 'Two young men, sus- 
pected of being Cadets, were yesterday arrested in Kan- 
sas City. When searched there was found upon one of 
them a list of addresses and ages of girls in most of the 
large towns of Kansas and Missouri.' " 

"No doubt," said mother, "your preceptress was right. 
But, I am afraid, Nellie, that you acted too hastily with 
Bess; probably no one noticed anything unusual in her 
using the word with its accepted meaning." 

"0, yes, mother, for I saw the boys exchange quick 
glances, and some of the girls blushed, and there was a 
dreadful silence." 


Story of a White Slave. 

After her children had retired, the mother, while ar- 
ranging the room for the night, began looking over the 
disordered contents of the family reading table. She 
set herself to an examination of the periodicals accumu- 
lated there. She read again the notice of the arrest of 
the two young men. In the St. Louis Woman's Na- 
tional Daily she was confronted by a head-line, "Story 
of a White Slave." 

The Woman's World for January, 1910, contained 
an article entitled, "Taft takes up the Battle-cry," in 
which Walter Wellman was quoted as saying, of the 
report of the Immigration Commission : 

"It is an amazing, a wretched story, told with brutal 
bluntness and exactness, calling a spade a spade." 

She noted at the foot of the cover-page of The Wo- 
mans World, the words : "Largest Circulation in the 
world — Goes into Over Two Million Homes." She also 
found, quoted from this congressional report, these 
words: "Owing to the difference between European 
and American views regarding prostitution, co-opera- 
tion for the suppression of the White Slave Traffic can 
be expected only along certain lines." 

She stopped to ponder. "The difference between 
European and American views — " This mother had 
never traveled abroad. But she had some valued friends 
of foreign ancestry, even foreign birth. 


His Point of View. 

As she thought, her eyes idly caught a line in the local 
weekly paper, folded to show the "patent inside." It 
was a joke. It told that an American had invited a vis- 
iting foreigner to attend his silver wedding. "Wed- 
ding?" questioned the native of southern Europe. 
"Yes/* explained the beaming American, "you see, we 
have lived together for twenty- five years." "Ah !" said 
the foreigner, "I see, I see! So now you marry her!" 
It was headed "His Point of View." 

"I fear it is true," sighed the mother, "their view- 
point is different." 

Taking next the Ladies' Home Journal she read the 
two editorial pages headed, "My Quarrel with Woman's 
Clubs," in which Mr. Bok says : "What has the average 
Woman's Club done on the insistence by the parent of 
a clearer understanding of self and sex by the child? 
And yet, back of this question lies one of more tre- 
mendous import to every woman than any other; the 
fearful increase of the great Black Plague. What has 
the average Woman's Club done to agitate or prevent 
the needless blindness of over thirty-three per cent of 
little blind babies ? What has been done by the average 
Woman's Club towards the curse that is the one direct 
cause of sending eighty per cent of the women of to-day 
to the operating table ? What has the average Woman's 


Club done toward the repression in newspapers of in- 
decent advertisements relating to private diseases?" 

This mother was a white-ribboner. Her Union was 
federated with the woman's clubs of the little city where 
she lived. 

She well knew of the glorious victories along the lines 
of Purity in Literature and Art which the Woman's 
Christian Temperance Union had won, and she longed 
to record the bright list as a reply to the well-known 

But just then the father came home. 

The "Beast and the Jungle." 

"What, not gone to bed yet !" he said. "I see you are 
reading 'The Ladies' Home Destroyer,' as usual." 

The mother, who seldom had time to read, smiled a 
tired smile at the accustomed pleasantry, and turned 
next to The Delineator, where she was faced by an 
article, very plainly written, concerning the causes of 
infant blindness. 

The father had settled down with the new January 
issue of Everybody's Magazine. He stirred uneasily in 
his great chair. 

Presently he burst out, "Just listen to this!" and he 
read from a communication in Straight Talk, page 131, 
signed by initials only. 


"I have read the opening installment of Judge Lind- 
sey's 'The Beast and the Jungle.' Of the things he 
describes I have first-hand knowledge. I have strolled, 
with a police lieutenant, along Denver's Red Light Dis- 
trict and seen the rows of unspeakable 'cribs' with their 
half-clad, peroxided, painted denizens. I have seen the 
utterly shameless flaunting of vice, so revolting that 
one wonders that it has any attraction for even the most 
depraved and debased of men. I have seen the open 
solicitation that goes on night after night and even in 
broad daylight along three or four blocks of this street. 
I have heard the lewd, the outrageously, disgracefully 
obscene conversation between these 'crib-dwellers' and 
the males that passed along the street. And I have seen 
automobiles loaded with Denver's 'best society' men 
and women and young girls not yet out of their 'teens 
roll along this street on sight-seeing tours. Market 
Street and its 'cribs' being one of Denver's sights." 

"Isn't that awful, Mary? Why it seems to me that 
the lid is taken off and Hell is uncovered, right in our 
sight and in the sight of our children. Even young 
girls looking down into the bottomless Pit, as if fasci- 

"Awful," sighed the mother. "We used to be taught 
these lines, when I was young : 


** 'Vice is a monster of such frightful mien 
That, to be hated, needs but to be seen; 
But, seen too oft, familiar with her face, 
We first endure, then pity, then embrace. ' 

To-day's Awful Dangers. 

"But now we are told that letting the sunlight into 
dark places will purify them; that sinking the lancet 
into the festering ulcers in our cities will cleanse them. 
I suppose this is a phase, a necessary phase, perhaps an 
unavoidable one, of this vital question; but it hurts me 
so to have the children hear and read such dreadful 
things. Of course it hurts me worse to realize that they 
are in deadly peril, and that knowledge is some protec- 
tion. Why, John asked me, just to-night, what prosti- 
tution was." 

"I believe he has been reading this piece about Den- 
ver," said John's father, "for he asked me what a 'crib' 
was, and here I see some of his pencil marks on the 
margin of the page." 

"The time has come when we have to do something," 
said mother, "we must instruct them so that they will 
not use wrong words and say embarrassing things among 
their young companions," and she told him about the 
trouble of the two girls at the party. 

Said father, "It seems hard that we cannot keep 
them from knowing these dreadful things, at least 
while they are little. 


*'When I was young, we used to be warned against the 
weakness of our own natures, the traitor in our own 
bosoms, and exhorted to keep our hearts with care, to 
be pure and honest and true to the one whom we should 
some day meet and marry. It seems now that being 
honest and well-meaning does not protect the young 
any more. Fiends go about and trap mere children 
by means of their best and highest ambitions and their 
unselfish desire to help those they love. 

"A country boy in the city, innocent, inexperienced, 
ignorant, is at the mercy of the first painted woman 
who is kind to him, and older men think it a joke to 
trap him into sin and its following disease. He has just 
about the same chance for his life and his integrity as 
he would if thrust into a den of wild beasts and poisonous 
serpents. And as for the girls, shielded and kept ignor- 
ant at home, any day they may meet the polished and 
winning 'procurer,' in the street, the railway station, the 
hotel, the waiting-room of a department store, the ice- 
cream parlor, at an entertainment, or even on the very 

Died in a "Millinery Store." 

The mother had picked up another paper from the 
table and read aloud. "A beautiful and cultured young 
lady, a graduate of Toronto University, replied to an 


advertisement for a traveling companion. By corre- 
spondence a tempting offer was made, and she came to 
Toronto under arrangements to meet her employer. Her 
family, not hearing from her, followed her to the city, 
and found that the address given in the letters to her 
was a vacant lot. Every effort was made to trace her, 
but the young lady has never been heard of since. 

"In response to a newspaper advertisement a young 
girl from eastern Ontario came to work, as she was led 
to believe, in Mrs. M.'s millinery store. Not hearing 
from her, her family grew frightened and her brother 
came to the town where she was supposed to be, in- 
quiring for Mrs. M.'s millinery store. The men on the 
street laughed at him. Finally a person, out of pity, 
informed the young man that Mrs. M.'s was a house of 
prostitution. The young man learned that his sister 
had died in that house and been buried some weeks 

"So we must not only teach our daughters to refuse 
to answer all strangers who accost them, but to avoid 
answering advertisements. It is not from within, but 
from without that danger comes. A girl's ambition to 
earn money is used against her. A woman's tenderest 
affections are used to destroy her. Almost anyone 
would trust a devoted lover who proposed marriage. 
And investigators say tliat the Cadets marry girls and 


then sell them into slavery or live on their earnings. I 
have read that, in spite of all the many precautions 
taken, one-tenth of all the innocent and honest emigrant 
girls who come with high hopes to this land of the free 
and home of the brave, are lost and ruined and sunken 
into shameful lives. It is too pitiful." 

The father spoke again. "A great deal of this evil is 
done by foreigners, and I do believe that the root of the 
trouble is laziness. They come from countries where the 
highest good is just to lie in the sun and sleep. They do 
not, they cannot, understand the love of work, the dig- 
nity of labor, the joy of accomplishment. 

"It is such men as these who stop all work at forty, 
or as soon as their little children can work in factories ; 
such men as these whose wives scrub office buildings 
while they live in idleness; such men as these who go to 
Ellis Island and claim girls whose friends have failed 
to meet them, deceive the authorities, marry the girls 
(who do not understand a word of our language and do 
not know they are married), and then these men live at 
ease on the shameful earnings of the poor victims. 

Worse Than African Slavery. 

"How far apart, how worlds away from the old, high 
standards of our pilgrim fathers ! away from the New 
England conscience, with its sturdy honesty, its stern 


industry and frugality, its holy reverence for woman- 
hood, its tender nurture of childhood ! 

"And how far away from the chivalry of the Southern 
gentleman, who grows eloquent over 'the unwritten law' 
which, he claims, justifies the murder of the mftH who 
insults his womenkind! 

"We are paying for our lax immigration laws of the 
past, paying for our selfish apathy and blindness, that 
permitted vice to get a stranglehold on our cities. A 
rude waking has come. The transition is so sudden that 
it amounts to shock." 

"Oh !" wailed the mother, "it almost drives me dis- 
tracted to think of it ! It is worse than the old English 
press-gang, that seized unsuspecting boys and pressed 
them into the British navy. It is as if the old times 
before the war had come back and white girls were en- 
slaved even more than the black ones." 

"How long would slavery have lasted, if every white 
man knew that his own daughter was in danger of 
being bought and sold? It is far worse than African 
slavery, for many of the black slaves were happy and 
many of them were good, even deeply religious; while 
no woman, though she be deceived and made an inno- 
cent victim, can be happy after she has been ruined, can 
live happily in sin, or when surrounded by vice. The 
lists of suicides show this. 


"It is as if our children were walking over a bridge 
they think is safe, and they dance along, laughing, with- 
out a fear, till suddenly a plank is gone, and they 
plunge into awful depths of black water. I often won- 
der what those women, who were afraid to permit Miss 
Willard to introduce a Purity Department in the 
Woman's Christian Temperance Union, would think of 
the situation to-day ! 

"And what do the people who refused to take the 
Purity periodicals for fear their children would read 
them and be shocked, think to-day, when every daily 
paper contains revelations far beyond the guarded and 
delicate utterances of the Purity magazines?" 

Turning again to the table, they saw a large envelope 
addressed to the mother. 

Facing the Problem. 
It was Senate Document No. 196, of the 2nd Session 
of the 61st Congress. It was a partial Eeport of the 
Immigration Commission, on The White Slave Traffic. 
It has been sent into thousands of homes. In order that 
it might be understood, foot-notes are given, telling the 
meaning of terms and names used in the Eed Light 
Districts of cities and used by people who make a living 
by vice, by seduction and law-breaking. Side by side 
these parents went over the dreadful pages, before they 
locked it into a drawer. 


It was now very late. The mother, feeling as if she 
could never sleep again, took up, for comfort and to 
divert her thoughts, the latest issue of her own par- 
ticular paper. The Union Signal. 

Miss Willard's pictured statue spoke to her from the 
cover, of sweet reasonableness and consecrated eloquence. 
She turned the leaf and found this heading, "The 
House Passes the Bill against Traffic in Women." Be- 
low was the text of Section 3 of the hill. 

In her nervous and overwrought state it semed to the 
mother that she must hide even her favorite paper away 
from her children. 

Then came the thought that they were in daily danger 
and must have all this knowledge. 

So these troubled parents, like conspirators in the 
dead of night, perfected a plan whereby they might 
carefully teach their children of various ages ; teach them 
just what words and allusions must be avoided in 
speech, even though they are commonly seen in print; 
teach them the new meaning of old, innocent words; 
above all, teach them not to loiter in public places and 
not to converse with strangers of either sex at any time. 

So at last, after most fervent prayers for guidance, 
they sought their pillows, but not to sleep, for upon their 
hearts pressed heavily the Problem of Today. — Mrs. 


The above was taken from The Light, B. S. Steadwell, 
Editor, La Crosse, Wisconsin, TJ. S. A. While we do 
not uphold the "lodge-and-party" feature of the article, 
and do not, by printing it, commend all the periodicals 
quoted as good reading matter for the home, we use it 
to show that, no matter what periodical or magazine we 
read to-day, the White Slave problem is before us. We 
see, too, by the well taken ground of the writer that it 
behooves us to warn our children in the home circle of 
prayer and Christian training against the dangers of 
to-day. There is absolutely no other way. It is high 
time to throw away all false modesty and plainly tell 
our children in well chosen language what they must 

Some Causes Found. 

The saloon is responsible for the brothel. Without 
the saloon the brothel-trade would largely diminish. The 
modem, lukewarm Church (Club, would be a better 
name) is also largely in partnership with the gang that 
traps our daughters into a life of shame. We substan- 
tiate this serious charge by asking, How about the sa- 
loon buildings? Are not many of them owned by 
church members? Is not much of the property in 
which the business of prostitution is carried on owned 
by church members? If not, then our charge is incor- 
rect. Is it any wonder that our modern fat-jowled. 


money-mad church member can not see Calvary? He 
seems to be satisfied with his- brothel rent-receipts and 
seems not to be aware that the Devil is holding before 
his eyes the dollar-marked glasses through which it is 
impossible to catch even a glimpse of the world's cruci- 
fied Eedeemer. 

What is needed more to-day than anything else is not 
reform, but a return to the God of our fathers. America 
has gone mad with pleasure and prosperity. "We need 
more holiness evangelists who will preach against sins 
and sin until this proud money-intoxicated, pleasure- 
seeking and lust-serving generation is awakened. The 
soft sophisms and empty platitudes of the hireling must 
give way to an evangelism that preaches the old time 
Bible Hell, repentance, restitution, pardon for actual 
sins committed and cleansing from sin inherited. After 
all the rubbish of iniquity has been swept aside it is 
then we can talk of heaven. God save us from sickly 
sentimentalism ! 

On the other hand we need to be saved from the rasp 
and harshness that makes all uncomfortable in our 
presence. We need to get a million leagues away from 
Bushism — the false doctrine of unchristianizing all who 
do not pronounce our Shiboleth. Let us beware of the 
Buzzard and the carrion. God wants us to be gentle 
and kind and full of tenderness. This does not mean 


"I Can't See It!" 

The Devil's dollar sign before his eyes 
Hides from his sight the bleeding Sacrifice. 


that we need spare sin. God's man avoids both ex- 
tremes — that of being harsh and uncharitable on the 
one hand and soft, sickly and sentimental on the other. 
Thank God for a clean heart, a level head and a love for 
the whole human race ! 

CHAPTEE yill. 

We have learned that the truth is best emphasized 
by repetition. "For precept must be upon precept, pre- 
cept upon precept; line upon line, line upon line; here 
a little and there a little" (Is. 28:10). The heart- 
breaking chapters, "The Life Story of Nellie," and 
"Mary, a Tale of Sorrow" in this book are only two of 
the many sad incidents that lead us into the depths of 
an Outcast's suffering. Her silent sobbing in the Slave 
cribs of her brutal master speak eloquently of unnam- 
able suffering, and God sees her. When the bowl of 
wrath is full we shall see it poured out over the head of 
this nation in unmeasurable depths of woe. 

In this chapter we relate the shorter history of "cases" 
brought to light by the White Cross Midnight Mission- 
aries. We draw from Mr. Clarkson's private data, and 
seek to clothe it in language both clear and plain. As 
we proceed we see clearly that sin lies at the bottom of 
every case; that only through grace is the transforma- 
tion and better life possible. Reformation is what the 
world prates about, but transformation is what is needed, 



and what grace accomplishes. A thorough regeneration 
and a subsequent "second work of grace;" viz., entire 
sanctification, is a sure and lasting cure for the sin 
life. Any other method is but beating the air. 

While this book, as the title suggests, deals more spe- 
cifically with the White Slave or fallen woman, yet we 
devote considerable space to the fallen men. If we are 
face to face with the fact that thirty thousand fallen 
women infest the vice resorts of Chicago, we face the 
still sterner fact that by their side tramp a hundred 
thousand fallen men who are in need of real salvation 
fully as much as are their fallen sisters. We must not 
lose sight of the fallen men. 

In our slumming tours through the Red Light Dis- 
trict we have seen the streets there literally thronged 
with boys and men. We have seen the sad answer to 
our mothers' song-query : "Where is my wandering boy 
to-night?" The "wandering boy" is found near the 
"wandering girl's" resort. One is as much lost as the 
other. One is as precious in the sight of God as the 

Betrayals and False Promises. 

In one of the midnight slum tours (Nov. 5, 1909), 
the White Cross. Missionaries dealt with about two hun- 
dred unfortunate girls. One beautiful young woman, 
after talking to them a while, said ; "I have never known 


a mother's love, nor known what it is to hold her guid- 
ing hand. I have two little boys to support. I want 
to get out of this life of sin !" 

Another poor girl had a father and mother, but they 
kept a resort, hence she naturally drifted into a life 
of shame. She had never had a chance to become a 
good girl. Still another sadly said : "1 was married 
when very young, and soon thereafter discovered that 
my husband was untrue to me. He frequented houses 
of prostitution until he contracted a dangerous disease 
which he brought to our already miserable house. Then 
he deserted me and left me to support my little boy 
of five and the little girl of seven." 

The poor child was the picture of despair. She was 
sick and already on her way to the hospital, the morgue 
and a pauper's grave. As the weight of her great load 
of sin pressed upon her weary soul, she added: "I am 
forced to lock my children in a room and come here to 
this miserable resort in order to get a little money for 
our support !" The look of discouragement on the poor 
girl's face was a sight to make angels weep, though the 
low chuckle of fiends seemed to come from every crev- 
ice of the ill smelling resort. 

"Why Don't They Get Out?" 

An uninformed and ignorant public asks. Why don't 
they get out? Let Josie "Washburn answer the question. 


She has tasted the dregs of the life in every phase and 
is therefore the most competent authority on the ques- 
tion. Her answer exactly voices the conclusion of the 
writer. She says: 

"Do you think that the underworld women have 
no pride and are destitute of all feeling ? Do you think 
that when the policemen add insult to injury that it 
does not hurt her? Do you think that when the people 
of her acquaintance pass her by unnoticed that she feels 
no pang of pain? 

"Do you think that when the Sisters who are fol- 
lowing in the footsteps of our Savior (?) refuse to give 
the fallen women the care which she is paying for, be- 
cause she is a sinner, that she does not feel grieved and 
hurt over this treatment? 

"A fallen woman has the same feelings that others 
have; there is no difference. 

"She will always remain a woman, and is conscious 
of all the injury and injustice heaped upon her. 

"If you have the idea that there is one woman in 
one thousand who remains in the business as a matter of 
choice, in the name of humanity allow yourself to ie 
shown that you are mistaken. 

"I repeat the assertion that there is not one in a thou- 
sand, except the dope fiend, the drunkard or the im- 
becile, who do not daily wish and plan for a deliverance 
from the life. 


"We remember our homes where peace, purity and 
love reigned; we long for it: but public sentiment and 
conditions put us in the underworld forever. 

"Your opinion makes us an Outcast, a Beggar, and 
a Slave. All nature speaks to us of love and peace; the 
animal kingdom respect us as it respects you. 

"In fact, all of God's creatures are our friends, except 
the good men and women!" 

Some Reasons Why. 

You may say her answer is somewhat bitter, and 
even that it is not true? that you do love her; that you 
are not in any way connected with her continued miser- 
able existence there? Let us see. Is it not a fact that 
there is a double standard of recognition relative to 
the fallen in sex ? Is it not a fact that he who ruins the 
life long prospects of a young woman is passed, with 
scarcely a reprimand, while the poor woman is weep- 
ing her life away because she is snubbed, ignored and 

The prime mover in the sad drama comes to our 
altar of prayer, A glad unanimous shout goes up at 
once "over one sinner that repenteth." We gather 
around the praying man, beat him on the back, and 
pray unctiously that this sinner may be redeemed. Sud- 
denly the light breaks over the tearful scene and another 


glad united shout rends the air and glad hands of fel- 
lowship are eagerly extended. We, with you, thank 
God for the transformation, and should like to see it 
repeated a thousand times in similar cases. But now 
we will turn to the other case. 

In the rear of a large audience sits a woman with a 
sad sweet face. Evidently her soul is in deep trouble. 
Occasionally she wipes a tear from her pale cheek, and 
seeks to hide her emotion by holding the song book 
high before her face. The sermon had cut a wide 
swath through the thorny fields of sin and the Spirit 
wooed tenderly. The climax brings the mourner to the 
bench, among whom is the woman of the sad face and 
stiffled emotions. 

Food for Reflection. 

, She kneels at the altar of prayer and, in her despera- 
tion, confesses her past life of sin. The unanimous 
shout is lacking and in its stead we hear ejaculations 
of "Poor woman ! hope she is genuine ? Fear she is 
at the altar for no good," etc., etc. 

In spite of adverse criticism the glory strikes her 
soul. A subdued sort of encouragement is extended 
to her. The "rouse" and the "ring" of the other vic- 
tory seems lacking for — "she is a woman of the street." 
We have heard them say, only recently, "I couldn't 
have her in my house, you know !" 


Yes, we know. We know too well. But while you 
read, is it not dawning on you, my saintly friend, that 
she is just as precious in God's sight as you are ? What 
right have you to draw your purple robes aside, lest 
they touch the dress of scarlet? Has not grace put 
you and her on the same level? But why pursue the 
weary task ? God help the Christian people to lay their 
false scruples and whims by and treat her who has 
been unfortunate as Jesus did. Remember, he said 
to her "Neither do I condemn thee: go, and sin no 
more." Are these not precious words to a sinner? If 
they brought pardon to her, did they not bring pardon 
to you? Where is the difference? 

In the Wilds of Sin. 

The accounts of the great White Slave Traffic in 
ithe newspapers the last few months show what a diffi- 
cult matter it is to escape the toils of the Trader. No 
matter what the cause of the woman's downfall may 
have been or how she has been trapped into the life, the 
only cure is in the blood of Jesus. If we, as His dis- 
ciples, draw aside from the erring and repentant what 
hope have they left? May God sweep through the 
hearts of His people such a wave of real love for the 
lost that they may turn to us confidently for help. If 
they are turned away from us to whom shall they go? 


One Saturday night in the Eed Light District the 
missionaries were stationed at the doors of the resorts 
to plead with men and boys not to enter the places of 
sin. Hundreds were turned away as a result. Quite a 
number requested prayer at the street service. Seven 
men and one woman knelt in the street to pray for 
themselves. Messrs. Wakefield and Clarkson were met 
on the street by a young man who requested them to 
pray for him. Drawing aside int© a doorway they 
prayed for him and commended him to God. * The boy 
had been in the country but two years, and ten months 
ago had drifted into the Eed Light resorts. Kealizing 
his danger, he sought to escape from the toils through 
the power of redeeming grace. 

A Personal Devil. 

Two workers took a young man much the worse for 
liquor home. Although two o'clock in the morning 
when they reached his home they found his mother 
still faithfully watching at the window for her "wan- 
dering boy." Who knows how many poor mothers are 
keeping silent vigil at the window tonight for him who 
has gone the downward path to ruin. The toils of the 
liquor traffic and the tentacles of the Vice Monster 
pull him farther and farther into the meshes of sin. We 
long to see the day come when both liquor g-ijd vice 
ghall be driven from our shores. 


A great joy, indescribably sweet and precious, floods 
our heart as the certainty of such an event is in pros- 
pect. The personal Christ will conquer a personal 
Devil : 

''And I saw an angel come down from Heaven, having 
the key of the bottomless Pit and a great chain in his 

"And he laid on the Dragon, that old Serpent, which 
is the Devil, and Satan, and bound him a thousand 

*'And cast him into the bottomless Pit, and shut him 
up, and set a seal upon him, that he should deceive the 
nations no more, till the thousand years should be ful- 
filled: and after that he must be loosed a little season" 
(Eev. 20:1-3). 

"And when the thousand years are expired, Satan 
shall be loosed out of his prison, 

"And shall go out to deceive the nations which are 
in the four quarters of the earth, Gog and Magog, to 
gather them together to battle: the number of whom 
is as the sand of the sea. 

"And they went up on the breadth of the earth, and 
compassed the camp of the saints about, and the beloved 
city: and fire came down from God out of Heaven, and 
devoured them. 

"And the Devil that deceived them was cast into the 


lake of fire and brimstone, where the beast and the 
false prophet are, and shall be tormented day and night 
for ever and ever" (Eev. 30: 7-16). 

That a personal Devil is at the head of all sin is true. 
The "Big Chief of the White Slave Traffic is governed 
by this "Prince of the povsrer of the air." In our scrip- 
ture quotation we see his finish. The day is coming 
when the saints' triumph shall be complete. We shall 
then have no more a personal Devil to fear nor to lead 
us astray. Evangelist C. W. Euth quaintly says: 
"Some day God is going to bury the Devil face down, 
so that should he attempt to dig out he will dig deeper. 
He will lock his grave and hand the key to the Sad- 
ducees, for they do not believe in the resurrection." 


There was a man it was said one time, 

Who went away in his youthful prime. 

Can the brain keep cool and the heart keep quiet 

When the blood is a river that's running riott 

And boys will be boys, the old folks say, 

And the man is better who's had his day. 

The sinner reformed; and the preacher told 

Of the prodigal son who came back to the fold. 

And the Christian people threw open the door, 

With a warmer welcome than ever before. 

Wealth and honor were his to command. 

And a spotless woman gave him her hand. 

And the world strewed their pathway with blossoms abloom. 

Crying : ' ' God bless lady, and God blesa groom ! ' ' 

There was a maiden who went astray 
In the golden dawn of life 's young day. 
She had more passion and heart than head. 
And she followed blindly where fond love led. 
And Love, unchecked, is a dangerous guide 
To wander at will by a fair girl's side. 

The woman repented and turned from sin, 

But no door opened to let her in. 

The preacher prayed that she might be forgiven. 

But told her to look for mercy — in Heaven; 

For this is the law of the earth we know, 

That the woman is stoned while the man may go. 

And a brave man wedded her, after all, 

But the world said, frowning : ' ' We shall not call. ' ' 

— Ella Wheeler Wilcox. 



"Once she was pure as the snow, but — she fell; 
Fell, like the snow flake, from Heaven to Hell; 
Fell, to be tramped like the filth of the street; 
Fell, to be cursed, to be spit on, and beat. 
Fainting, famishing, dreading to die. 
Selling her soul to whoever will buy. 
Wickedest wretch that goes shivering by. 
Takes a wide sweep lest she wander too nigh: — 
Merciful God! has she fallen so low? 
And yet she was once like the beautiful snow. ' ' 

Yes, but how came she to enter these paths 1 
Go with me, and I will tell you ; I will show you a 
house that ought always to wear the sign of mourn- 
ing; for there lives a man more guilty than the 
Herod who slaughtered the innocents! They died in 
infancy, and went to Heaven. The mothers of Bethle- 
hem wept their children slain. But they were chil- 
dren fondly nestling in their mothers' breast; and, 
though ruthlessly torn away, they winged their flight 
to join those angels, who are said to be ''ministering 
spirits. ' ' 

Mothers ! which of you would not a thousand times 
sooner lay down your little child beneath a weeping 



willow, than have that child grow up to womanhood, 
to become the sport and victim of the seducer, and then 
a loathsome cast-off thing, the betrayed, and the 
double-betrayer ? 

And you, mothers and daughters, especially you 
whose elevated position invests you wath great moral 
power, how long will you shrink from performing a 
duty to yourselves, by spurning from your presence 
those ignoble pretenders to be gentlemen, dressed in 
the height of fashion, well skilled in etiquette and the 
conventionalisms of good society, but who, while they 
may not offer the slightest insult to those in their 
own station of life, are well known to be guilty of 
conduct such as ought to brand them with infamy, and 
exclude them from all respectable society? 

Is it not time that you exclude such creatures from 
your social circles, your drawing-rooms, your very 
acquaintance, and let them fall to their true level 
among the deepest dregs of the morally degraded? 
Until you do this, the work of the social reformer 
will be painfully slow, and many poor Marys will 
still be the subjects of tales of sorrow. 

In the Mill. 
Mary, the subject of this narrative, during the ear- 
lier part of her life, resided in a small village north of 
Rochdale, She, like most young people, was full of 


life, and joined her rustic playmates in their inno- 
cent amusements. As she grew up, many remarked 
that she would be a handsome woman. She had a 
pretty face, and a good figure; possessions, which, to 
many, have proved fatal gifts. 

Her domestic training had not been all that one 
could wish. Yet her family, of which she was the 
youngest, had an average respectability. Mary's at- 
tendance at the chapel in the neighborhood was, for 
several years, quite encouraging. The more thought- 
ful of the congregation feared that she was over-fond 
of dress, and the question was sometimes asked, How 
does she get the means ? With an answer to this ques- 
tion, the painful part of our narrative begins. 

At the mill where she worked, she, along with others, 
received her wages every fortnight. On one occasion 
she received a half-sovereign more than was due. She 
counted the money over and over, but still the coin 
was there. She looked at the man (or rather fiend) 
that had paid her. He saw her confusion, and with 
a smile, said, "It is all right, Mary. I know what 
you have received. You can keep the piece of gold for 
yourself. ' ' 

Piety Safeguards Chastity. 

May returned to her work with a face like scarlet. 
Her flushed countenance caused several to ask her 


what she had been doing. She jokingly answered, 
"You must wait till I tell you." But though she 
tried to sing, and look cheerful and happy, the worm 
was at her heart. Thoughts to which she had hitherto 
been happily a stranger had entered her head, and in 
spite of herself, troubled her. To use her own expres- 
sion, "I was uneasy that day." 

But what shall we say of the wretch who, by the 
piece of gold, had tempted this yet innocent girl, and 
had given rise to hopes he deliberately intended to 
blast? "Well would it have been for Mary if she had 
cast the piece in his face, walked out of the mill, and 
never again entered it. 

We know that many young females fall victims to 
their own improper conduct. An excessive love of 
finery beyond their means, bold and forward behavior 
in the presence of men, light and frivolous conversa- 
tion, Sunday walks with merry companions, attend- 
ing theaters and singing-saloons, keeping late hours 
and neglecting home duties— all these are judged to 
be indications of easy virtue ; and, as a rule, the judg- 
ment is just. 

But there is a dignity in true modesty, which ren- 
ders the libertine powerless, and makes him feel his 
own degradation ; and, however men may pretend to 
flatter the forward, they only admire and respect the 


modest. Man's impudence is instantly rebuked where 
the woman's heart is fortified with true religion; for 
after all, piety is the best security for chastity. 

Crapes in a Cop-Box. 

We know one who, finding a bunch of grapes in her 
cop-box, put there by the master under pretence of 
looking for something, carried the grapes after him, 
into the coimting-house, cast them down at his feet 
with indignation, and went home to tell her mother. 
She knew the man, and read his motives. Her mother 
wept, and exclaimed, "Ellen, I have long thought well 
of you; but now I thank God that he has given me 
such a child and that he has given you so pure and 
noble a spirit. We are poor, but we will leave this 
place and trust to Providence." 

Ellen is now the honored and respected wife of an 
honorable and respectable man. But one in the same 
mill, who did not reject the allurements thrown in 
her way, now finds her name cast out as evil, and is 
the mother of a child of shame. 

We have no wish to cast undue reflections, but ob- 
servation leads us to the conclusion, that the moral 
character of the employer of labor, whether manu- 
facturing or agricultural, is a fair criterion of the 
moral character of the employed. I know a mill par- 


tially owned by a man of the turf, that has in it more 
bettors and gamblers than all the mills of the neigh- 
borhood; and another owner, who bets his money on 
foot-races, has brought many of the hands to poverty 
by leading them to imbibe the same spirit. "Like 
master like man," often holds good in more respects 
than as regards either horse or foot racing. 

A high moral character in employers, managers, 
and overseers, is a great blessing to the hands; and 
the reverse a great curse. And we are glad to say 
that many employers have a sincere regard for the 
moral condition of their hands, and take the best 
means to insure their welfare in this respect ; for there 
is no doubt that virtue and integrity prevail among 
our factory operatives, quite as much as among any 
class of the community. 

The Fatal Half Sovereign, 

As Mary returned home that night, she separated 
the half-sovereign from her wages, and hid it in a part 
of her dress. She looked strange, and was so un- 
usually silent that her mother asked her if she was 
unwell. ''No," was the reply, though she retired 
early to bed, but not to sleep. She was restless and 
miserable, and rose in the morning unrefreshed. She 
sighed to tell some one, but durst not. She wished to 


hide the money, but could not tell where, for she was 
afraid it might be seen, and then what must she say 
respecting it? 

But soon the half-sovereign grew to two, then three. 
Fine dressing followed. "Whispers of scandal soon be- 
came out-spoken. She left school and chapel ; left her 
home, driven away by her father; and one night in a 
lodging-house, became the mother of a still-born child. 

Mary's mother privately contrived to see her, dur- 
ing her confinement, but it was a sorrowful meeting. 
The rest of the family would not own her, and she 
left the neighborhood. Where she went to was best 
known to the giver of the first fatal half-sovereign. 

Two years after the revelation of her shame she 
might be seen walking our streets. But how changed ! 
The rustic health and cheerful smile were gone. There 
was no mistaking what she was then, nor why she was 
walking the streets; the mark was upon her. Poor 
Mary, does the wretch who gave you the half-sov- 
ereign, who first beguiled, tempted, and ruined you 
smile upon you now? No. He has destroyed the 
peace of your home, and from that home they spurned 
you. He saw you innocent and happy, and blasted all 
your hopes. The scorpion's sting would not have 
proved so fatal to you as that villainous wretch. Now 
he does not know you ; he despises you, and threatened 


to send you to prison, the last time you asked him for 
something to buy you bread. Poor Mary! 

Had Mary been wise, there was some hope still left 
for her. 

On the Street. 

"While penning this short story, a young female has 
just entered my house and sits before me. She comes 
to beseech me to take her from a life of sin and sor- 
row, to the Home for the Penitent. A kind lady (not 
the first time in such cases) consents to take her. And 
now the young woman, yesterday on the street, is 
sheltered in a home of mercy, that to many has been 
a home of joy, from which after two years, they 
have come forth new in heart and new in life. 

The blessing of Him who had not where to lay His 
head, rest on the homes of the benevolent Christian 
ladies who have thus provided a merciful retreat for 
their fallen and erring sisters. 

But Mary did not go; she lived on a life of crime 
and wretchedness. 

A Midnight Knock at the Door. 

Late one evening a gentle knock at the door ar- 
rested my attention. The knock was evidently from a 
timid hand. There is in the midnight knock a dis- 
turbing influence | eculiar to itself. When the tramp- 


ing of feet has ceased, and the rumbling wheels of the 
last conveyance die away in the distance, and stillness 
reigns around — when, quiet and thoughtful, you sit 
gazing into the darkening embers of the womout fire, 
calmly reflecting on the past, or speculating on the 
future — in such a moment a knock instantly arrests 
every wandering thought and commands immediate 
attention. Such was my experience on the night I 
was requested to visit the subject of this narrative. 

Unlocking the door, I found a poor woman on the 
steps. She was without bonnet, her head and face 
were covered with a shawl. On my inquiring her er- 
rand at so late an hour, she informed me that a wo- 
man in the back street was very poorly, and wished to 
see me as soon as possible. And she added with evi- 
dent fear, and almost in a whisper, **She is a woman 
of the streets." 

Bidding her wait I stepped back into the house, 
and put on my boots, coat, and hat. On returning to 
the door, though the night was dark, I saw another 
person standing several yards distant. She was tall 
and slender, and seemed clothed in white. The mo- 
ment she saw me she ran down the street at her full 
speed, and was instantly out of sight. 

"What is the meaning of this? Why was yonder 
person standing looking this way; and why does she 
now run swiftly away?" I asked. 


"I do not know, sir," was the reply. 

"Yes, I think you do; and I wish you to tell me 
before I go with you one step," I observed. 

"Well, then, sir, she should have come for you 
herself, but being dressed as she is, she wished me 
to come and she would show me where you lived." 

The Place of Infamy. 

Our way to the place of infamy and suffering was 
down a notorious street. Near the bottom are several 
miserable courts. Down one of these we groped our 
way in absolute darkness, and at last reached the 
house of sin and sorrow. It was the home of Mary. 

I have witnessed many scenes of wretchedness, but 
none surpassed the one I saw that night. In a small 
room, with a damp flagged floor, on a pair of old bed 
stocks, under a bundle of rags, lay the wasted and 
worn form of what had once been a beautiful woman. 

A chair without bottom stood beside her head, across 
this was a narrow piece of wood, placed there to hold a 
cup of water. A thin candle that stood over the fire- 
place dimly revealed a sight sickening to behold. I 
laid my hat on the floor, and bending over the poor 
creature, asked if she wished to see me. 

"Yes, sir, I do. Yes, I do. You went to see Ellen, 
and you went to see Lizzie; they are deed; and now 


my turn is come." Then raising herself up, with look 
of wildness truly dreadful, she exclaimed, "But there 
is mercy! there is mercy! there must be mercy! I 
know Christ died for sinners. Yes, yes, I know that 
Christ died for sinners, and I am a sinner! and oh, 
what a sinner!" 

She then fell back exhausted, and lay some time 
without power to speak. When she recovered, I re- 
plied, "Yes, thank God, Christ died for sinners, and 
for the chief of sinners. How long have you known 

"Ever since I was a scholar in the Sunday School. 
I there learned to read the Bible. There I heard 
the Gospel preached. When I was about eighteen the 
minister often spoke to me about joining the church 
and giving my heart to God. Those were happy days, 
happy days! Oh! could I but call them back. But 
no, no, they are gone." 

And again raising her voice she repeated, "But 
there must be mercy, there must be mercy, Christ died 
for sinners!" 

' ' Had you not left the Sunday School, and had you 
sought and obtained salvation as the minister wished, 
how different would have been your state. In an evil 
day you left school, lost your virtue, and lost your 


"Yes, and an evil day it has been. I have a thou- 
sand reasons for cursing that day; and to curse one 
villain more than the day. My blood is on his head, 
and my curse has long followed him. Can mercy ever 
reach such as he ? " 

"You Will All Come to This!" 

Just at this point the door was softly opened, and 
a tall, slender yoimg woman in a light dress entered. 
She was followed by four others, all gayly attired. 
The youngest, a girl of about eighteen, had curled her 
hair, and wore a light dress, neck-beads, and brace- 
lets. The five quietly drew near the bed, and silently 
gazed on poor Mary. 

For some time not a word was spoken. Mary was 
the first to move or speak. She fixed her eyes with 
a steady gaze upon the group, and said with a deep 
sigh, "You will all come to this!" 

I have heard the roar of the surging sea, and the 
wail of stricken sorrow. I have heard the sobs of 
agony for the dying, and the groans of the suddenly 
bereaved; but that one sentence stands out among all 
as the most fearful, the most truly dreadful. Many 
events glide from my memory like the lessening re- 
verberations of the echo. But this holds its place. 
What a scene! 


The young, the gay, the thoughtless, blooming with 
health, and buoyant with hope, decked in fashion and 
show, taking their last look at one of their companions 
in sin; that companion in ways of transgression — 
wasted and worn, covered with filthy rags, in the most 
wretched poverty, sinking rapidly down to the grave, 
and, as she feared, down to Hell — in the calmness of 
death looking on the guilty group, and deliberately 
predicting their doom. 

The Dying Magdalen. 

We catch this sentence of the dying Magdalen with 
a hope that it will never die till its sound is heard in 
the gayest saloon, the casino, and every house or place 
of ill-fame throughout our land. For to all such char- 
acters the words are true, and terrible as true ; except 
they turn from their ways of wickedness, "they will 
all come to this." 

I was leaning against the wall, under the dim candle, 
when the fearful prophecy was uttered; and turning 
to the youngest, asked if she had heard it. 

' ' Yes, ' ' said she, ' ' I heard it. " 

"Yes," I observed, "in this place we see the be- 
ginning and the end. This poor creature now lying 
in such a pitiable condition, was once as you are. And 
unless you forsake the life of sin you are now leading, 
you will sooii be as she is, ' ' 


Then addressing them all, I said, ' * Surely you now 
see, in this dying woman, what are the wages of siii. 
Is it not enough to make you fall on your knees, and 
cry for mercy and forgiveness ? Enough to make you 
tear the very hair from your heads, at the bare thought 
that you have the name of " 

While speaking, the younger girl buried her face in 
the neck of one near her — who caught hold of the 
young creature, and they sobbed aloud. The others 
turned to the wall and wept. The dying penitent 
calmly said, ' ' Mr. Ashworth, kneel do^Ti ; beg of God 
to have mercy on us all — especially on me, ^a broken- 
hearted sinner." 

We all knelt. Yes, we all knelt, and wept, and 
prayed. How frail are words at such a moment. My 
trembling voice was lost in sobs, in groans, and tears. 

Ellen and Lizzie. 
On a subsequent visit Mary again referred to Ellen 
and Lizzie, two of her former companions. She knew 
I had been with them in their last moments, and wished 
to know if they had any hope in their death. She 
evidently concluded that if they were pardoned, she, 
too, might possibly be saved. I urged her not to allow 
anything that might admit of a question to draw her 
mind from the only foundation on which a sinner 
could trust for salvation, 


One of these girls, Lizzie, a few days before she 
died, sent an urgent request that I would come im- 
mediately to see her. On my entering the room she 
requested every person but myself to go out. When 
all had left, she turned her face towards me with a 
look of despair, exclaiming, "Oh, I have not sent for 
you to read the Bible, or to pray with me. It is now 
too late ! God will not hear prayers for me. A lady 
brought to me a Bible many months since, but I 
pawned it, for how could I keep a Bible and live as 
I have lived? The sight of it made me miserable. I 
have sent for you to confide to you a secret, for I can- 
not die until I have told you. ' ' 

With anguish of soul she communicated to me the 
long-kept secret, but it can do no person any good to 
make it known. On the day she died, she begged I 
would not leave her one moment. About twelve at 
night, she had a most terrible conflict. She grasped 
my hand and screamed out, "Shall I go to Hell as I 
have hold of the hand of a Christian?" 

For some time our hands were locked together. On 
telling her I wished to read and pray with her once 
more, she loosed her fingers. One of her attendants 
ran out to fetch a Bible, and another lighted a candle, 
for we had been some time with only the flickering of 
the fire for light. I read in the ears of the dying Mag- 


dalen, the last portion of God's word she ever heard, 
from Psalm 103 ; and kneeling down, prayed for her 
the last prayer. As I knelt by her side she again 
clasped my hand, heaved one deep sigh, and breathed 
her last. 

Died in the Work House. 

The other girl, Ellen Bland, died in the workhouse. 
During her sickness she refused to see any of her 
former companions; she wept and prayed night and 
day, and was greatly distressed on account of the dis- 
grace she had brought on her family. Most bitterly 
did she bemoan her conduct to her mother. No one 
saw her die. The old nurse took me to look at her 
body, laid out in the deadhouse. Her features bore 
the stamp of pain and suffering. I laid my hand on 
the cold forehead, and breathed a hope that the sor- 
row-stricken countenance did not indicate more than 
her last struggle Avith the last enemy, 

I was near being the only mourner for Ellen. On 
the day of her funeral, I walked alone behind the 
hearse containing her remains, but on arriving near 
the cemetery, two of her young companions, gaudily 
dressed in borrowed black, joined me, and when 
Ellen's body was lowered into its dark, narrow bed, 
they both sincerely shed for her a tear, 


In a Pauper's Grave. 

And thou, poor Mary, soon foUowedst thy frail sis- 
ters to their resting-place. Poor Mary, the wanderer 
from the Sunday School ; Mary, the betrayed and the 
betrayer. Mary! poor Mary! Thy worn and wasted 
form now lies silent in a pauper's grave. 

Fain would we hope that He who of old pardoned 
the sins and restored the soul of one who washed his 
feet with her tears, turned not away from thine, but 
said to thee in His divine compassion, "Daughter, be 
of good cheer ; thy sins are forgiven thee. ' ' 

"For at the window of my house I looked through 
my easement, and beheld among the simple ones a 
young man void of understanding. ... In the 
twilight, in the evening, in the black and dark night, 
there met him a woman with the attire of a harlot, 
and with an impudent face she said unto him, I have 
come forth to meet thee. With her much fair speech 
she caused him to yield. He goeth after her as an 
ox goeth to the slaughter, as a fool to the correction 
of the stocks, as a bird to the snare, till a dart strike 
through his liver. . . . But he knoweth not that 
it was for his life and her house is the way to hell. ' * 

Terrible words of inspiration, and terrible retribu- 
tion, for where did this impudent woman come from ? 


Ask the rich man that with the half-sovereign first 
tempted poor Mary. 

Note. This chapter was written by Mr. John Ashworth, and 
may be had in tract form at 9 cents a dozen, 60 cents per 
hundred, postpaid, from the Asher Publishing Co., 429 Holly 
Ave., St. Paul, Minn., XJ. S. A. 


In the May Union Signal (1910), Mrs. Rose Wood- 
alien Chapman, Superintendent Purity Department, 
National W. C. T. U., has a series of articles under the 
above caption covering the territory under question so 
thoroughly that we beg the privilege to use it entire 
against the twin evils ; viz., the saloon and the brothel. 
Once and for all time we declare ourselves opposed to 
the legal protection of these social vices. These chapters 
are followed by Hurd's Revised Statutes of Illinois 
(1908), to show that the Hag in Scarlet has not a single 
law in her favor. This will give the public a clearer con- 
ception of the sad situation. Please study carefully : 

"It is -hardly necessary to state to members of the 
Woman's Christian Temperance Union that there is a 
traffic in women, of all colors and all races. As an 
organization we have been familiar with these awful 
facts for years, and we have striven to do all in our power 
to have the nefarious business completely stamped out. 
To-day, however, so many new facts are coming to light 
concerning it, that it will be well for us carefully to 



review the situation as it is at the present time, that our 
information may be authentic and up-to-date. 

"We will not turn to the newspaper and magazine 
articles that did so much to make the terrible situation 
known to the general reader, and, therefore, did so much 
to bring about the present noteworthy activity on the 
part of those officers who have power to deal with the 
evil. Rather we will turn to those authenticated docu- 
ments whose words bear the stamp of truth and cannot 
be discredited by being ascribed to the imaginative 
writers of fiction. 

"The most thorough official investigation of this traffic 
in women has been given by the special committee of the 
Immigration Commission, which began work in ISTovem- 
ber, 1907. Its researches were necessarily limited to the 
questions of the importing of women for immoral pur- 
poses and the leading astray of immigrants within the 
legal limit of three years after their landing. The report 
upon this subject was transmitted to Congress in De- 
cember, 1909, and a portion of it was prin-^ed as Senate 
Document No. 196. 

A Few Quotations. 

"A few quotations from this document will make it 
clear to every one just wTiat the situation is at the present 
time. Says the report : 'The recruiting of alien women 


or girls to enter the United States in violation of section 
3 of the immigration act, or to live in this country in 
violation of this provision of law, is carried on both here 
and abroad. 

" 'In the judgment of practically every one who has 
had an opportunity for careful judgment, the numbers 
imported run well into the thousands each year. 

" 'To secure entries into the country contrary to our 
law, these immoral women or the deluded innocent vic- 
tims of the procurers are usually brought in as wives or 
near relatives of their importers. 

" 'Many of these women come through the port of 
New York. Of late, many come by way of Canada. On 
the Pacific coast, San Francisco and Seattle are the chief 
ports of entry. 

" 'The prize offered to the victim is only that of higher 
wages and better economic conditions.' 

"These authoritative statements show that a traffic in 
women does exist; but, judging by the questions raised 
by some of the newspapers, the real question to be de- 
cided is the extent and character of this traffic. The 
paragraph that seems to be most widely quoted by the 
newspapers from this report is the one which states 
that the commission has been unable to learn of any 
'great monopolistic concern whose business it is to import 
and exploit these unfortunate women, trafficking in them 
from country to country.' 


"Yet the report goes on to state, 'There are two organ- 
izations of importance, one French, the other Jewish, 
although as organizations they do not import. Ap- 
parently they hate each other; but their members would 
naturally join forces against the common enemy.' 

French Headquarters. 

"And again : 'In several cities there are French head- 
quarters — that is, a meeting place where French im- 
porters, procurers * * * congregate, receive their 
mail, transact business, drink, gamble and amuse them- 
selves in other ways. Through these mutual acquaint- 
anceships, sustained by common interests and a knowl- 
edge of their common affairs, they assist one another in 
the business. Sometimes small groups of individuals are 
organized to assist one another for a time, each going 
abroad in turn to send or bring girls into the United 
States. One combination discovered was formed between 
a fugitive from justice in Paris, a man in Seattle, and 
another in Chicago, the man in Paris supplying the girls 
to the Northwest through Seattle and Chicago.' 

"The report is very conservative in its statements, 
which should make more convincing the facts which it 
presents. 'To guard against the sensational beliefs that 
are becoming prevalent, it is best to repeat that the 
agents of this commission have not learned that all or 


even the majority of the alien women and girls practicing 
prostitution in the United States in violation of the im- 
migration act were forced or deceived into the life. 
* * * They have learned * * * that alien 
women and girls in considerable numbers have been bo 
deceived or taken advantage of by procurers that they 
have found themselves in conditions which practically 
forced them into practicing prostitution; and that all 
of those engaged in the exploitation of these alien women 
and girls use every means of degrading them, in order 
to keep them in the life as long as they are able to earn 

"The next question that seems to call for considera- 
tion is as to whether or not these unfortunate women are 
really kept in a condition of slavery. The most preva- 
lent notion for many years has been that practically all 
of the women in the life, whether they went into it of 
their own free will or not, remain in it of their own 
volition and therefore cannot be called slaves. 

"Turning to the report, we find that it speaks in gen- 
eral terms of 'many girls brought here innocent, betrayed 
into a slavery rigid in its strictness and barbarous in its 
nature.' And again, 'Most pitiful for the women and 
most brutal on the part of the men are the methods 
employed for exploiting these women imported contrary 
to law, both those coming willingly to lead a vicious life 


and those lured into the country as innocent girls by de- 
ception and by their affections.' 

Procurer Shares Profits. 

" 'The procurer may put his woman into a disorderly 
house, sharing profits with the madam. He may sell her 
outright; he may act as an agent for another man; he 
may keep her, making arrangements for her hunting 
men. * * * jf gj^g ^p^gg ^q leave her man she is 
threatened with arrest. If she resists, she finds all the 
men about her leagued against her ; she may be beaten ; 
in some cases when she has betrayed her betrayer she has 
been murdered.' 

" 'Of her earnings she gets practically nothing ; if she 
is docile and beautiful and makes herself a favorite with 
the madam, she may occasionally be allowed to ride in the 
parks handsomely dressed. * * * She is usually 
kept heavily in debt in order that she may not escape. 
* * * Frequently she is not allowed to leave the 
house except in company with those who will watch her ; 
she is deprived of all street clothing * * * g]^g often 
contracts loathsome and dangerous diseases and lives 
hopelessly on, looking fcu*ward to an early death.' 

" 'But,' say many, 'why don't the girls make their es- 
cape? Surely in this free land of ours no one need be 
kept in subjection against his or her will.' On this 
point, also, the report has something to say: 


"*An innocent girl often revolts bitterly against the 
life and refuses to submit until compulsion is used. 
* * * If she tries to escape, he may apply for aid 
to any other man (in the same business) in any city in 
the United States. These men are constantly traveling ; 
they frequent the same clubs and are in close correspon- 
dence. If she has been seen by other men they make 
a business of remembering her, and her photograph, in 
case of escape, would be sent to other places. Not only 
do they wish to help one another, but they wish also to 
impress upon their own women the difficulties and danger 
of attempting to escape. In many cases it appears as if 
the police made little effort to assist the girls. * * * 
Instead of feeling safe with the police they are usually 
threatened with the police by their (masters) and some- 
times they are arrested and punished on some false 
complaint. Not only the keepers of disorderly houses 
but even saloonkeepers and the keepers of the 'hotels* 
patronized by people of this class, naturally side with the 
men. All the women known by the girl are either un- 
willing or powerless to help her/ 

Regular Business of Recruiting. 

"In addition to the importation of women for immoral 
purposes, there is a regular business of recruiting going 
on from among those who have lately come into the 


country and who are easy victims because of the ignor- 
ance of the language and the customs of the country. 
The report says of this method of procedure: 'Those 
who recruit women for immoral purposes watch all 
places where young women are likely to be found under 
circumstances which will give them a ready means of 
acquaintance and intimacy, such as employment agencies, 
immigrant homes, moving picture shows, dance halls, 
sometimes waiting rooms in large department stores, rail- 
road stations, manicuring and hairdressing establish- 
ments. The men watching such places are usually suave 
in manner, well dressed, and prosperous looking. They 
become acquainted as intimately as possible with the 
young aliens, then use every conceivable method of be- 
traying them.' 

''One other question must be touched on before we 
leave this report, and that, very naturally, is this: 'Are 
our own, native-born girls in any danger of this kind 
of slavery T 

"The work of this special committee was limited to 
the question of the immigrant girl. Yet on the above 
question it has this to say : 'It is probable that a some- 
what larger proportion of the American girls are free 
from the control of a master; and yet, according to the 
best evidence obtainable * * * nearly all the 
women now engaged in this business in our large cities 


are subject to (masters) to whom they give most of their 
earnings, or else they are under the domination of keep- 
ers of houses, a condition which is parctically the same.' 

^'This is the condition in general, as the investigators 
of the Immigration Commission found it. In the next 
article we will take up a consideration of some of the 
results of the recent investigation carried on in New 
York City. 

"For the past two years Chicago has been fighting 
valiantly to purify itself of this terrible evil and much 
has been accomplished in the way of successful prosecu- 
tions and the passage of more stringent laws. Indeed, 
it has doubtless been Chicago's inspiring warfare that 
aroused other portions of the coimtry to follow in the 
same line of endeavor. Chicago's story is well-known 
by this time, however. The situation in New York la 
more recent and, therefore, calls for more detailed at- 

Judging by the prosperity and wide-open business of 
the Levee, the West Side and the Strand as late as July 
1910, little progress has, after all, been made in Chicago. 
If one wants a glimpse of Hell it is only necessary to step 
from the elevated station at Twenty-second street and its 
red glare and raucous noises are there. Newspaper re- 
ports as to the lid having been put on the Traffic are mis- 
leading, to the certain knowledge of the writer of this 


book. However, this article is true to the line outside of 
this particular phase. 

A Special Grand Jury. 

"A special grand jury was empaneled the first week in 
January to investigate the so-called Vhite slave traffic/ 
and of this grand Jury, John D. Rockefeller, Jr., was 
made foreman. 

"At the time of this appointment, the attitude of a 
great many seemed to be that of expecting the grand 
jury to prove the falsity of the accusations made against 
New York City as one of the great centers of the in- 
famous traffic. This was the expressed opinion of the 
new mayor, and even Mr, Eockefeller himself was widely 
quoted as having said, 'If these stories are tnie they 
should be proved; if they are false, they should be 
silenced.' As the weeks went by, less was heard of the 
possible falsity of these statements, and on January 20 
it was made known by the newspapers that, after a con- 
ference with Mr. Rockefeller, Mayor Ga5'nor 'expressed 
great surprise and seemed astonished to think that no 
great effort had been made by the police to stamp out 
the trade.' Further surprise was manifested by the 
mayor when the young millionaire told him that the girls 
(witnesses before the grand jury) had told how they had 
been stolen, sold and held against their will, afraid to 


attempt to escape for fear of being killed or badly beaten 
by their masters. 

"On February 4, the Board of Estimate voted an ap- 
propriation of $25,000 for carrying on the investigation 
of the special grand jury, and it was not long before the 
newspapers recorded arrests, indictments and some con- 

"From a study of these cases a better idea may be 
gained of what this traffic in women really is than in 
almost any other way. 

Guiseppi Picone Convicted. 

"The first conviction was that of Guiseppi Picone, 
who induced fifteen-year-old Wanda Boshka to leave 
home with him and afterward forced her to support him. 
The next was that of Emilio Dicico who, with Joseph 
Marfio, took three young girls on a trip to Hartford, 
Conn., and sold them to the keeper of a resort. 

"Samuel Buckle abducted his sister-in-law, who was 
fifteen years old, and brought her from Philadelphia to 
New York and sold her into a life of infamy. 

"The stories of these girls, when secured in detail, 
is most pathetic. Take, for instance, the case of Louise 
Gunderman, a comely Swedish girl, who came to this 
country to be married to the faithful sweetheart who 
was at last able to make a home for ti^v. Through some 


misiinderstaTiding of his directions, she found herself 
alone on the streets of New York. Her inquiries brought 
her no knowledge of her lover's whereabouts. She found 
her way, however, to the house of some of her country- 
women, and soon secured an honest position. At a social 
gathering she met Gustave Lagernian, one of the most 
noted cadets and panderers in greater New York. He 
used all of his arts of fascination upon the poor, lonely 
girl, painted a rosy future for her, and, telling her great 
tales of the different customs of this new land, succeeded 
in getting her to come and live with him. It was not long 
before she was forced upon the streets to earn the shame- 
ful money that enabled him to live in idleness. 

"On the last night of the old year, the poor victim 
suddenly met her old sweetheart face to face. To him 
she sobbed out the story of her misery and shame, and 
he promised to aid her to a reformation. They were 
starting away together, but Lagerman, who had been 
spying upon them from a doorway, drove the lover away 
at the point of his revolver and chased the girl to her 
room, where he beat her cruelly and then destroyed most 
of her clothing, that she might remain a prisoner. 

"With hope newly aroused, however, the girl did not 
give up, but managed to send word to her brother-in-law, 
who rescued her and caused the arrest of her 'master.' 

"Unlike the stories of most of these victims, this one 


has a happy ending. The 'slave-driver' was sentenced 
to five years in the penitentiary. The victim was married 
to her faithful lover, and sailed with him for the old 
country, where in time she might forget a part, at least, 
of her terrible experiences in this, 'the land of the free 
and the home of the brave.' 

"In contrast to this finale is the fate of th^ girl wife 
of eighteen, who refused to return to a life on the streets 
to support her husband, just released from Elmira re- 
formatory, and was shot by her husband as a consequence. 

"Another case was that of a young girl of fine family 
who came from Venezuela to go on the stage. She has 
stated upon oath that she was forced into a life on the 
streets at the point of a revolver ; she bears marks which 
she asserts were received in beatings which the man gave 
her; and since her escape from his clutches she has lived 
in constant fear for her life. Threatening letters which 
were written her by the man were put in the hands of the 
district attorney. 


"From these few instances some idea may be gained 
of what is going on in New York City. To be sure, no 
startling number of cases has been discovered, and no 
evidence that the courts will accept has been found as 
to the existence of any large syndicate or organization of 
men engaged in this traffic. Eecalling, however, the wide- 
spread announcement that was given to the projected 
investigation to be undertaken by the special grand jury, 
and remembering the astuteness of these men, no one 
will be surprised at the small results. 

"Of course, the men at the top get out of the way. Of 
course they covered up their tracks so securely that no 
legal trace could be found. But it must seem, to any 
right-minded individual, that enough has been found 
to indicate that a great deal more of this sort of thing 
is going on in the under-world than the newspapers, for 
instance, are willing to admit. Already they are an- 
nouncing : 'No white slave traffic here — another slander 
on New York exposed.' But these self-congratulatory 
statements have little effect upon those who know of the 



conditions unearthed in Chicago's two years' investiga- 
tion and in the work of the National Vigilance Com- 
mittees of the various countries. 

"The results of the investigation in New York City 
may seem meager. Two facts, however, must be borne 
in mind. One is that the evidence now required under 
the law to secure conviction is of such a character as to 
make it almost impossible for it to be obtained. Certain 
definite facts must be proved. The testimony of the vic- 
tim is not enough; it must be corroborated by another 
witness. But the very character of the acts is such that 
a man would see to it that no one else was put in a posi- 
tion to have knowledge of them. Hence, in numberless 
cases where guilt is morally certain, it cannot legally be 

"Then, again, the restricted meaning which it seems 
must necessarily be placed upon the word "^slave,' enables 
the statements to be made with some show of reason that 
there are very few "^slaves.' Too many of these unfortu- 
nate girls are ready to say that they are in the life will- 
ingly — some say it through fear of their keepers, doubt- 
less, while others have become so hardened to the life that, 
seeing nothing else for them, they speak the sad truth. 

Difficult to Secure Convictions. 

"Every one can readily see, if it has been so difficult 
to secure the conviction of individuals, how almost im- 


possible it must be to obtain legal evidence on this busi- 
ness. One society whose members are, according to the 
statements of investigators, in this traffic, keeps its skirts 
clear by expelling the unfortunate one whose occupation 
becomes known. 

"Moreover, we of the Woman's Christian Temperance 
Union know that if there is no organized Vhite slave 
traffic,' as is claimed, there is an organized liquor traffic, 
which is the very source and root of this terrible evil. 
Where is it the procurers meet? In the saloon. Where 
is it the poor victim generally meets her terrible fate? 
In the back room of a saloon or in a wine-room. What is 
it that is responsible for nine-tenths of the immorality 
among men? Alcoholic liquor, say the physicians who 
have made the closest study of immorality and the re- 
sultant diseases. 

"While we arouse ourselves to greater activity than 
ever before over the atrocities of the traffic in women, we 
do not need to lessen our interest in the warfare against 
the liquor traffic, for when we strike at that we strike 
at the very fountain-head of this most awful evil. 

"New York City, however, was not the only place 
where increased activity of officials brought out evidences 
of a traffic in women. On January 16, at Watertown, 
N. Y., a detective rescued three girls of respectable 
families who had been abducted by a man and a woman 


from Utica, N. Y., on the promise of lucrative positions. 
The newspapers stated that the facts in this case in- 
dicated the existence of a well organized white slave 
syndicate operating near the Canadian border. 

"In Los Angeles was discovered a man who has been 
making periodical trips to Belgium, bringing back each 
time a woman who, he claimed to the authorities, was 
his wife, but who was subsequently sold into slavery. The 
man was arrested in Baltimore for enticing a seventeen- 
year-old girl from Dauphin, Pa., to that city. On one 
of the prisoners was found memoranda of names and ad- 
dresses of girls in nearly every city in the East. A six- 
teen-year-old girl, employed in a typewriter factory in 
Grand Eapids, Mich., was enticed into a resort by two 
women and was refused her freedom. She managed to 
escape and brought action against the women. 

"These fearful occurrences, recorded from all over our 
land, should enforce upon our minds two vital lessons. 

"One is the need for drastic legislation in every state 
in the Union looking toward the complete wiping out of 
this nefarious traffic. A step in the right direction was 
the resolution presented to the 'House of Governors' by 
the committee on resolutions of the National Civic Fed- 
eration, asking that uniform legislation should be 
adopted 'to suppress and prevent the procurement of 
women for immoral purposes,' so that no state should be 


a harbor of refuge for those who make a business of thus 
exploiting women. 

Traps in City and Country. 

"The second lesson is one that needs to be learned by 
parents and young people everywhere, and that is that 
these traps are spread for young and innocent feet not 
alone in the big and wicked city, but in the smaller place 
as well. Harry A. Parkin, assistant United States dis- 
trict attorney of Chicago, says, 'I think it safe to say 
that every city, village and hamlet whose daughters are 
fair to look upon, has been or will be, as time proceeds, 
the hunting ground of some procurer or agent for the 
white slave syndicate. I make this statement for the 
purpose of sounding a warning to that resident, that 
mother, that daughter, who sits in the schoolhouse or 
church pew and believes that she is safe from the snares 
of the traffickers because of the remoteness or the in- 
accessibility of her peaceful village. It is not alone the 
large cities that furnish beautiful girlhood to lives of 
shame and debauchery. It is not necessary to go to 
New York, Pittsburg, Philadelphia or Kansas City to 
procure beautiful and attractive girls. It is well known 
that out on the prairies in Texas, in Missouri, in Iowa, 
Kansas, Nebraska, in fact, all over our great west, there 
^re as beautiful types of womanhood as ever graced God's 


footstool. It is these that the trafficker is seeking. They 
are the ones who furnish the easiest victims for his 

"Parents need to be awakened to the fact that they 
must be watchful always if they are to insure the safety 
of their girls, even when living in the seclusion of their 
own homes. Sometimes a young girl in the country or 
small town is allowed to marry a man from the city, 
whose polished ways have blinded her natural protectors 
to the necessity of a full knowledge of the character and 
history of the man into whose hands they must put the 
welfare of their child. Too often has the marriage 
proved to be but the convenient trick of the procurer, 
and the girl found herself his innocent victim. 

"Says Edwin W. Sims, of Chicago, United States 
district attorney, *I believe that there are good grounds 
for the suspicion that the ice cream parlor, kept by the 
foreigner in the large country town, is often a recruit- 
ing station and a feeder for the white slave traffic' 

"Then, too, the girl living at home sometimes 
thoughtlessly picks up acquaintances at the postoffice, 
the railroad station, when off on a picnic, and little by 
little comes under the insidious influence of one who is 
deliberately plotting her ruin. 

"Parents should understand that these dangers are 
very real, and should do all in their power to guard 
aorainst them. . 


Country Girl in Greatest Danger. 

"It is the country girl who leaves home and goes 
to the city who is in the greatest danger, as all the 
workers along this line testify. 

"To quote again from Edwin W, Sims : 'The recent 
examination of more than two hundred "white slaves" 
by the office of the United States district attorney at 
Chicago has brought to light the fact that literally thou- 
sands of innocent girls from the country districts are 
every j^ear entrapped into a life of hopeless slavery 
and degradation because parents in the country do not 
understand conditions as they exist and how to protect 
their daughters from the "white slave" traders, who 
have reduced the art of ruining girls to a national 

"And again : 'In view of what I have learned in the 
course of the recent investigation and prosecution of 
the white slave traffic, I can say in all sincerity that if 
I lived in the country and had a young daughter I would 
go to any length of hardship and privation myself rather 
than allow her to go to the city. * * * But if cii*- 
cumstances should seem to compel a change from the 
country to the city, then the only safe way is to go with 
her to the city; but even this last has its disadvantages 
from the fact that, in that case, the parents would 
themselves be unfamiliar with the usages and pitfalls of 


metropolitan life, and would not be able to protect their 
daughters as carefully as if they had spent their own 
lives in the city/ 

"And again: 'Do not trust any man who pretends 
to take an interest in your girl, if that interest involves 
her leaving her own roof. Keep her with you. She is 
far safer in the country than in the big city, but if go 
to the city she must, then go with her yourself; if that 
is impossible, place her with some woman who is your 
friend, not hers ; no girl can safely go to a great city to 
make her own way who is not under the eye of a trust- 
worthy woman who knows the vrays and dangers of 
city life.' 

"Miss Florence Mabel Dedrick, a rescue missionary 
for the Moody church, Chicago, has, through experience, 
gained a true understanding of the situation. She 
contrasts the country girl and the city girl thus : 'The 
country girl is more open to the enticements of city 
life, being more truthful, perfectly innocent, and un- 
suspecting of those whose business it is to seek their 
prey from girls of this class. The city girl has had it 
drilled into her from the time she could walk that she 
must regard people with distrust, not speaking to 
strangers anywhere, accepting nothing from any one, 
and making confidants only of her own people.' 

"Then, speaking of the dangers, Miss Dedrick gives 


utterance to the following very practical words of warn- 
ing: 'The danger begins the moment a girl leaves the 
protection of home and mother. One of these dangers 
is the fact that there are watchers or agents, either 
men or women, at our steamboat landings, railroad sta- 
tions, everywhere, who seek attractive girls evidently 
unused to city ways, try to make their acquaintance by 
using inducements and deception of every conceivable 
kind, by offers of helpfulness and by showing every 

Places of Danger. 

" ^Girls are offered refreshments, either to eat or 
drink. Many are secured in this way and realize, when 
too late, that the refreshing drink was drugged. 

" 'After coming to the city, homesickness may over- 
take a girl, and, even if warnings have been given, she 
may forget them, throw off restraint and pour out her 
heart freely to those of whom she knows nothing, and 
in this unguarded moment the mischief is done. 

" 'Another danger still, and a very serious one, is our 
lodging houses of today, many of which are houses of 
shame, hidden from public eye. 

" 'Rooming in one place and taking meals in another 
is a great danger, and one which her mother should 
guard against. 

" 'Another serious danger is the entertainment of 


gentlemen friends in her room. Much danger might be 
avoided if every lodging house had a parlor where a 
girl could have some home life and entertain her friends 

" 'Without a moment's hesitation I -would say, after 
much investigation, that one curse of our land today is 
the five-cent theaters. More harm is done right here 
in one night than could be undone in years. 

" 'Ice cream parlors and fruit stores, in many cases 
combined, run largely by foreigners, are where scores of 
girls have taken their first step downward. 

" 'There are restaurants selling wines and liquors, 
where many young girls go as waitresses, which hold 
dangers for every girl. 

" 'The sign, "Ladies' Entrance," "Family Entrance," 
indicate what has often been the "entrance" of many a 
precious girl to a life of sin. 

" 'The amusement parks are now becoming a serious 
menace to our young people. Advertisements are an- 
other temptation in store for the country girl. 

" 'One of the most fascinating allurements of city 
life to many a young girl is the dance hall. 

" 'Many girls have a great desire and ambition to work 
in a store in the city. I would never allow a girl to do 
it unless I knew beyond a shadow of doubt that she 
possessed great strength of character. A serious cause 


for the downfall of many girls is the small wages which 
so-called Christians are paying — barely enough for mere 

Manifold Temptations. 

"All who are interested in the welfare of girls should 
carefully consider these manifold temptations. Then 
as we ponder how our girls may be saved, let those of 
us who are parents carefully consider these words of 
this experienced worker: 'There is a point in a girl's 
downward career, just at the beginning, where she 
may be rescued on the rebound, as it were, and untold 
suffering saved her, for she is very tender at this time, 
and easily influenced. The closed door of a father's 
home is the reason why so many go deeper down in 

"A consideration of this subject would not be com- 
plete if we did not give some time and attention to its 
international aspects — not alone because our informa- 
tion is incomplete without this, but even more because 
in this view of the subject there is much that is help- 
ful and suggestive for those desiring to assist in the 
safeguarding of women and girls. 

"It will doubtless be of interest to many to know 
that this latest crusade for the suppression of the 'white 
slave traffic' had its beginning in the year 1898, as a 
direct result of the efforts of the secretary of the Brit- 


ish National Vigilance Association. Determined efforts 
were put forth to convince the various governments of 
Europe of the necessity of their taking concerted action 
in this matter. Finally, in July, 1902, in response to 
an invitation from the French government, sixteen coun- 
tries, represented by thirty-six delegates, met at the 
Foreign Office in Paris to consider what measures would 
be most effectual in breaking up these syndicates of 
evil. As a result of the deliberations, an international 
agreement was drawn up, and on May 18, 1904, this 
treaty was signed by the leading countries of Europe. 
It was presented to our government and, after careful 
consideration, its ratification was advised by the Sen- 
ate and proclaimed by the President, June 15, 1908. 
It has been stated that this is the first treaty relating to 
social morality consummated between the leading gov- 
ernments of the world. 

Ports and Depots Danger Points. 

"It has been discovered that the chief places of dan- 
ger are the ports of embarkation or debarkation and the 
railway stations of the various countries, and one of 
the articles of this treaty provided for having a watch 
kept at these places for persons in charge of women and 
girls destined for an immoral life. 

"Since this work could hardly be entrusted to men. 


and since it would be necessary for such workers to know 
several languages as well as to be possessed of much 
common sense and discretion, the British National Vigi- 
lance Association was authorized by the government to 
engage a large number of women workers, possessing 
the requisite qualifications. During the last five years 
they have met at the railway stations of London 
and at the most important English ports, 16,000 
young women, 80 per cent of whom were of for- 
eign nationality, and quite 40 per cent of whom would 
have been in moral peril if it had not been for this as- 

"In France the society, 'Les Amies de la Jeune Fille/ 
did splendid work; the women of the Catholic church, 
beginning in 1898, organized the International Catholic 
Association for Railway Station Work. The statement is 
made that the organization of this work is now so com- 
plete in Europe that it is almost impossible for a young 
girl to fall into moral trouble, if she will but avail her- 
self of the help which is ready at all times and in all 

"An act was passed in this country February 20, 1907, 
which attempted to prohibit the importation of alien 
women and girls for immoral purposes. It was made 
broad, so that it would prohibit, not only the importa- 
tion but the keeping, even with her consent, any for- 


eign woman or girl for immoral purposes. A decision 
of the Supreme Court, however, that the clause 'keep, 
maintain, control, support, or harbor,' embraced pow- 
ers not given by the constitution to Congress, but re- 
served to the respective states, renders this portion of the 
act ineffective, and restricts the work of the Federal au- 
thorities to cases where they are able to prove that the 
defendant imported the girl prior to the time when she 
was found in his house of prostitution. As it is extreme- 
ly difficult in the vast majority of cases to show that the 
person in whose house the alien was found was respon- 
sible for her importation, this decision will very mate- 
rially lessen the number of Federal prosecutions. 

"In another article in the treaty the contracting gov- 
ernments undertook, within legal limits, to exercise su- 
pervision, as far as possible, over the offices or agencies 
engaged in finding employment for women or girls 

"Says the secretary of the British Vigilance Associa- 
tion, Mr. William Alexander Coote, speaking of this 
International Agreement: 'It is a woman's charter, 
which for the first time in the history of the world re- 
gards the moral well-being of a young woman as a na- 
tional asset of great value to the country in which she 
lives.' But the agreement can only be of real value in 
those countries where the people have sufficient interest 


in the welfare of their young women to organize them- 
selves to assist their governments in its working. 

The Traffic World Wide. 

"The value of this International Agreement is evi- 
denced by the following instance: On January 18 the 
officers of an international 'white slave' agency were 
raided by the police in Eiga, Eussia, on information re- 
ceived from Copenhagen, where fifteen Eussian girls, 
who answered advertisements for young women to work 
as dairymaids, had been sent. Only one of the Vhite 
slave' traders was arrested, the others having taken 
warning, but documents were seized showing an average 
profit of thirty dollars on each woman placed in Europe 
or America. 

"Yet we are still far from a complete solution of the 
terrible problem. For instance, the Matin of Paris 
makes the statement that 2,000 girls are annually lured 
from the workshops and homes of that city by the agen- 
cies centered there for the exploitation of women. It is 
very evident that more stringent laws are needed, and 
more particularly adequate police support, and more 
thorough international co-operation. It is quite possi- 
ble that another International Congress may be called 
to consider these and other necessary points. 

"Of great importance is it for us to consider the dan- 


gcrs that American girls run in foreign lands. Atten- 
tion was called, in an article published in the New York 
World on January 23, to the fact that girls who go 
abroad bent on operatic careers are often made the vic- 
tims of unscrupulous managers, agents, and orchestra 
conductors. Eecently, stated this article, a consul at an 
Italian city communicated with the United States gov- 
ernment, urging that protection be afforded young wo- 
men from this country who are in danger of losing, not 
alone their money, in the efforts for operatic appearances, 
but their virtue as well. There is evidently need of 
doing something for the protection of American girls 
who go as students to foreign lands. 

The Immigration Commission. 

"It will be well to consider some of the most impor- 
tant recommendations made by the Immigration Com- 
mission in its report, and carefully watch to see whether 
they are carried out by our government, whether by 
proper administration or by new legislation: 

" 'In carrying out the provisions of the treaty made 
with the leading European governments concerning the 
"white slave" traffic, as well as in the administration of 
the law excluding from this country alien criminals, 
there should be attached to our embassies in some of the 
most important countries, especially France, Great Brit- 


ain, Germany, Austria, Hungary, and Italy, special 
agents with authority to employ assistants who work in 
conjunction with foreign governments; first, in the way 
of securing information which might assist in the de- 
portation of criminals and prostitutes found here; sec- 
ond, in the way of furnishing information which might 
lead to the prosecution in foreign courts of aliens for 
crimes committed either here or abroad, especially for 
inducing women to enter upon an immoral life and go 
to the United States to engage in immoral practices. 

" 'The Secretary of Commerce and Labor should di- 
rect the special agent of the Department of Commerce 
and Labor, who would work in foreign countries under 
his immediate direction, to secure information not only 
regarding ordinary criminals, but also regarding prosti- 
tutes or young women who are presumably being taken 
to the United States for immoral purposes. Such in- 
formation should be in most cases given in advance to 
the steamship companies, so as to prevent the sailing of 
such persons. Provided such persons so sail, information 
should be furnished our immigrant officials in advance 
of their landing. 

" 'Government agents on the steamer whose duty it is 
to enforce the immigration laws, should likewise be in- 
structed to give especial attention to passengers pre- 
sumably connected with the "white slave" traffic. 


" 'At the chief ports of landing the matrons, as well 
as the members of the board of inquiry before whom cases 
that are presumably connected with the "white slave" 
traffic come, should be appointed with especial reference 
to their ability to detect and deal with such cases. 

" 'Doubtful cases of young alien women at ports of 
landing should be held until detailed inquiry can be 
made regarding the persons to whom they are to be dis- 
charged and regarding the places to which they are to 
be sent. 

"'The right should be given to every inspector as- 
signed to such duty to arrest on sight any alien woman 
found practicing prostitution, and also any alien man 
who appears to be living upon her earnings or who io 
supporting or harboring her for immoral purposes. 

" 'All persons violating the act who have been de- 
barred or deported, if they later return to and attempt 
to enter the United States, should be declared guilty of 
misdemeanor and should be punished by imprisonment 
for not more than two years, and at the expiration of 
such term be deported. 

" 'The penalties of perjury should be inflicted upon 
those taking false oath regarding the circumstances con- 
nected with these crimes. 

" 'The burden of proof regarding the date and place 
of landing should be placed upon the alien, if those facts 
are needed. 


" 'The keeping or management of any house of pros- 
titution by an alien, or the taking of all or part of the 
earnings of any prostitute, should be sufficient cause for 
deportation of such alien. 

" 'Steamship companies should be required to take 
back from whence they came all debarred or deported 
passengers in the same class of passage in which they 
came to this country. 

" 'Cases should be prosecuted in the district where 
evidence is most readily secured. 

" 'The legislatures of the various states should be 
asked to enact laws requiring the detention of every 
alien woman convicted under the state laws of practic- 
ing prostitution, and further providing for the notifi- 
cation of the Department of Commerce and Labor of 
such cases, in order that immediate steps may be taken 
for the deportation of such women. 

" 'The transportation of persons from any state, terri- 
tory or district to another for the purpose of prostitu- 
tion should be forbidden under heavy penalties. 

" 'The legislatures of several states should consider 
the advisability of enacting more stringent laws regard- 
ing prostitution. It is suggested that the Illinois stat- 
ute regarding pandering be carefully considered.' " 



We insert in this work enough law against the Red 
Light Districts to sink a battleship. The following is 
taken from a leaflet, entitled : "By What Legal or Moral 
Right does the Officially Protected Red Light District 
Exist?" published by order of Cook Co. Woman's Chris- 
tian Temperance Union. We invite you to study it care- 


To suppress bawdy and disorderly houses, houses of ill- fame 
or assignation, within the limits of the city and within three 
miles of the outer boundaries of the city ; and also to suppress 
gaming and gambling houses, lotteries, and all fraudulent de- 
vices and practices, for the purpose of gaining or obtaining 
money or property; and to prohibit the sale or exhibition of 
obscene or immoral publications, prints, pictures, or illustra- 

Houses of Ill-Fame. 
Page 352, Sec. 245 and 246— Houses of Ill-Fame. 
An Act to prevent the licensing of houses of ill-fame, and the 
official inspection or medical examination of the inmates 
thereof, in the incorporated cities, towns and villages of this 
state. (Approved and in force March 27, 1874.) 




Be it enacted by the People of the State of Illinois, represented 
in the General Assembly, That it shall be unlawful for the 
corporate authorities of any city, town or village in this state 
to grant a license to any person, male or female, to keep what 
is known as a house of ill-fame or house of prostitution. And 
it shall be lawful for any board of health (or any member oi- 
employee of the same) now existing, or which may hereafter 
exist under the laws of this state, to interfere in the managf^- 
ment of any house of ill-fame or house of prostitution, or to 
provide in any manner for the medical inspection or examina- 
tion of any inmate of ihe same. 

EMERGENCY. Whereas, the legislative authorities of cer- 
tain cities in this state are about to license houses of ill-fame, 
therefore an emergency exists why this act should take effect 
immediately; therefore, this act shall take effect and be in 
force from and after its passage. 

Fine of Not Exceeding $200. 

Page 724, Sec. 57 and 57A. 

maintains a house of ill-fame or place for the practice of pros- 
titution or lewdness, or whoever patronizes the same, or lets 
any house, room or other premises for any such purpose, or 
shall keep a common, ill-governed and disorderly house, to the 
encouragement of idleness, gaming, drinking, fornication or 
other misbehavior, shall be fined not exceeding $200. When 
the lessee or keeper of a dwelling house or other building is 
convicted under this section, the lease or contract for letting 
the premises shall, at the option of the lessor, become void, 
and the lessor may have the like remedy to recover the pos- 
session as against a tenant holding over after the expiration 
of his term. And whoever shall lease to another any house, 
room or other premises, in whole or in part, for any of the 
uses or purposes finable under this section, or knowingly per- 
mits the same to be so used or occupied, shall be fined not 

HURD's revised statutes of ILLINOIS, 1908 199 

exceeding $200, and the house or premises so leased, occupied 
or used shall be held liable for and may be sold for any judg- 
ment obtained under this section, but if such building or 
premises belongs to a minor or other person imder guardian- 
ship, then the guardian or conservator and his property shall 
be liable instead of such ward, and his property shall be sub- 
ject to be sold for the pasonent of said judgment. 

TITUTION. Be it enacted by the People of the State of 
Illinois, represented in the General Assembly, That any person 
who shall keep a boat or other water craft for the purposes of 
prostitution on any of the navigable waters of this state, 
breakwater or other stream, over or upon which this state has 
jurisdiction, shall be guilty of a felony, and upon conviction 
thereof, shall be confined in the penitentiary for a period of 
not less than one nor more than three years, and shall be fined 
in any sum not exceeding one thousand dollars. 

Duties of Mayor. 
Page 310. Sections 21-23-26-27. Duties of Mayor. 

21. HIS POWER TO KEEP PEACE. He-may exercise, 
within the city limits, the powers conferred upon sheriffs, to 
suppress disorder and keep the peace. 

23. GENERAL DUTIES. He shall perform all such duties 
as are or may be prescribed by law or by the city ordinances, 
and shall take care that the laws and ordinances are faith- 
fully executed. 

shall have power, when necessary, to call on every male in- 
habitant of the city over the age of 18 years, to aid in enforc- 
ing the laws and ordinances, and to call out the militia to 
aid in suppressing riots and other disorderly conduct, or 
carrying into effect any law or ordinance, subject to the 
authority of the governor as commander-in-chief of the 


OFFICER— PENALTY. In case the mayor or any other 
municipal officer shall at any time be guilty of a palpable 
omission of duty, or shall willfully and corruptly be guilty of 
oppression, malconduct or misfeasance in the discharge of the 
duties of his office he shall be liable to indictment in any court 
of competent jurisdiction, and on conviction, shall be fined in 
a sum not exceeding $1,000; and the court in which such con- 
viction shall be had shall enter an order removing such officer 
from office. 


Page 2007. Chapter 125.— Sheriffs. 

15. DUTY OF SHERIFFS. Sheriffs shall serve and exe- 
cute, within their respective coimties, and return all writs, 
warrants, process, orders and decrees of every description that 
may be legally directed and delivered to them. 

17. CONSERVATOR OF THE PEACE. Each sheriff shall 
be conservator of the peace in his county, and shall keep the 
same, suppress riots, routs, affrays, fighting, breaches of the 
peace, and prevent crime; and may arrest offenders on view, 
and cause them to be brought before proper magistrates for 
trial or examination. 

18. POSSE COJVHTATUS. To keep the peace, prevent 
crime, or to execute any writ, warrant, process, order or de- 
cree, he may call to his aid, when necessary, any person or the 
power of the county. 

In addition to above the sheriff may under certain circum- 
stances, call upon Governor for military force when unable to 
preserve peace. (Starr v. Custiss, Annotated Illinois Statutes, 
1343, par. 399.) 

State's Attorney. 

Hurd's Revised Statutes, page 193, sec. 5, gives the first 
duty of the state's attorney: 

"To commence and prosecute all actions, suits, indictments 
and prosecutions, civil and criminal, in any court of record in 

The Moth and the Flame. 

The human moths around the Red Lig^ht flame 
Show law is truckling to the Jade of Shame. 

HUED'S revised statutes of ILLINOIS, 1908 203 

his county, in which the people of the state or county may be 


PAGE 405. 

Houses of Ill-Fame or Assignation. 

1456. No person shall keep or maintain a house of ill-fame 
or assignation, or place for the practice of fornication or pros- 
titution or lewdness, under a penalty of not to exceed two 
hundred dollars for every twenty-four hours, such house or 
place shall be kept or maintained for such purpose. 

1457. No person shall patronize, frequent, be found in or 
be an inmate of any house of ill-fame or assignation, or place 
for the practice of prostitution or lewdness under a penalty 
of not exceeding two hundred dollars for each offense. 

1458. Every house of ill-fame or house of assignation 
where men and women resort for the purpose of fornication 
or prostitution is hereby declared to be a nuisance. 

Night Walkers. 

1459. All prostitutes, solicitors to prostitution, and all per- 
sons of evil fame or report, plying their vocation upon the 
streets, alleys or public houses in the city, are hereby de- 
clared to be common nuisances and shall be fined not to ex- 
ceed one hundred dollars for each offense. 

Ill-Governed or Disorderly Houses. 

1460. Every common, ill-governed or disorderly house, 
room or other premises, kept for the encouragement of idle- 
ness, gaming, drinking, fornication, or other misbehaviour is 
hereby declared to be a public nuisance, and the keeper and 
all persons connected with the maintenance thereof, and all 
persons patronizing or frequenting the same shall be fined not 
exceeding two hundred dollars for each offense. 

Powers to Enforce Laws Ample. 
The laws seem to be ample. The powers of officers to en- 
force them are ample. Yet this city of nearly one thousand 


churches is reeking with an ever-increasing number of houses 
of prostitution, not only tolerated by those sworn to enforce 
law but actually protected by them. 

The Mayor and Chief of Police have exactly the same legal 
and moral right to protect these 25,000 red-light criminals 
that they have to protect the operations of a band of counter- 
feiters, a gang of burglars or a nest of anarchists. Not one 
bit more. Let them deny it if they dare. Under this foster- 
ing protection the business of prostitution has grown to such 
proportions that the usual supply of depraved women is in- 
adequate. The procurer and white slave trader are the logical 

Arise ye sober men and women of spine and conscience and 
smite this cursed twin brother of rum and saloon politics! 
Blot it out! ! 

15,000 women imported into this country for prostitution 
in one year! 

25,000 to 30,000 depraved women regularly kept to make 
profits for their keepers — and graft for somebody. 



Quite recently, while this book was in preparation, 
an estimable young lady employed in a certain Noon 
Lunch Club, Chicago, related the following: "A num- 
ber of years ago when I had first come to Chicago, I 
was coming home from the White City one night with 
several of my companions, one older and more ex- 
perienced than myself. Seated in the car opposite our 
little group sat a fashionably dressed woman with spark- 
ling jewels and by her side sat a well dressed young man. 

The Madam and the "Knocker." 

We were having our pleasantry as well acquainted 
young people will, when I saw that I was closely ob- 
served by the fashionably dressed couple on the opposite 
side of the car. Finally the woman approached me and 
said : "Dearie, if you will get off the car with us (nam- 
ing the crossing) the young man says he will give us a 
swell dinner?" 

My older girl companion, suspicious at once, answered : 
"She's not going to get off with you !" 



"You're a knocker !" snarled the woman, and then re- 
newed her invitation, saying: "Come on, dearie; we'll 
have a swell dinner," etc., but of course I would not go. 
As they left the car soon afterward, in passing my win- 
dow she said : "Dearie, you would have come, wouldn't 
you, if it hadn't been for the knocker?" 

As we looked at the comely young woman who had had 
so timely an escape from a living death in the brothel, 
we shuddered. "Is it possible !" we exclaimed, as the 
Eev. Clarkson related the incident at the table where 
we were seated eating our noonday meal. Here she was 
a picture of health, a beautiful specimen of womanhood 
— the handiwork of God — saved from the Trader's 
clutch. How nearly had she fallen into the open snare. 

One Saved. Where Are the 999? 

We thought of the other unfortunates who had not 
escaped, and we mentally cried, "0, what can be done 
to stop this awful thing?" The choicest of our young 
women are yearly led by the thousands into the Harem 
of Lust, ruined in this world and damned in the next. 
The Church, 0, the Church, if only she would awake! 
May God bring forces to bear on her false modesty and 
deferred activity until the painted Jade of Lust is driven 
from our land. 

An exchange relates the following: "The Wliite 


Slave Traffic is carried on in our large cities to an ex- 
tent almost unbelievable. Every device that human 
ingenuity inspired by Hell can invent is being used 
to entrap the unsuspecting young women and lead them 
into lives of degradation. These human vultures that 
prey on the innocent deserve the most extreme penalties ; 
but it seems that such is their influence with many of 
the police they are rarely brought to justice. The fol- 
lowing account is taken from the Ottawa Guardian: 

The Young Country Girl. 

"A deaconess, accompanied by a policeman, entered 
one of the resorts in the down town District of a large 
city and began to hand out leaflets containing words 
of warning to men and women seated about the tables. 
Coming to a young country girl with a frightened look 
on her face, she stopped and asked in a low voice : 

"Do you know where you are?" 

" 'No, ma'am,' the girl answered. 'I just came in 
from J — to-day with Mr. Spaulding. He's got a place 
for me to work. "We came here to get some supper. 
It — isn't it a good place?' 

"The man across the table looked darkly at the little 
black-gowned woman who dared to meddle with his af- 
fairs, but was interrupted in the protest he would have 
made by the policeman, who promptly arrested him 'on 


" 'He said he had work for me in one of the stores/ 
faltered -the girl, as the deaconess led her away to a 
safe place. 'He has lived in J — ever since last spring 
and he was always nice to me. I wanted to earn some 
money so I came to the city. Mother and father were 

Fifteen Girls Almost Ruined. 

"Next day the deaconess went with the girl, not only 
as far as the railroad station, but all the way to her home 
in the small city of J — . The parents were shocked 
when they found how near their daughter had come to 
being sold into White Slavery. The deaconess stayed 
two or three days and made inquiry about the young 
man. He had posed as an insurance agent, but his real 
business had been to win the confidence and lure to the 
city the young girls of the town. 

"Before she left the town the deaconess found four- 
teen other girls who had been approached by him, and 
were planning sooner or later, to take positions offered 
by him in the city. 

"Fifteen innocent girls, and only saved because a 
woman, brave and alert, found the first one before it 
was too late ! 

"How long will fathers and mothers in country neigh- 
borhoods remain blind to this danger to their daugh- 


We begin to see how persistent these lustful leeches 
have grown. They crowd themselves up to our very 
threshold and almost demand the sacrifice of our daugh- 
ters. Thank God, these fifteen young women were 
saved and the scoundrel punished! But who shall go 
after the thousands that have been caught in the Sys- 
tem's net and are held against their will in the service 
of these soulless taskmasters? Today the question re- 
mains unanswered. 

If your girl were down there, would you go after her ? 
Yes? Ah, then; is not your neighbor's girl as precious 
in God's sight as your own ? Church of the Living God, 
will you get under the burden? Sing no more "Eescue 
the Perishing" in your comfortable pew. Go from your 
beloved place of worship "into the highway and hedges, 
and compel them to come in." 

Here is another "case" which rescue brought to light, 
taken from The Safeguard: "To do the work of the 
Lord requires not only the Lord's power but the Lord's 
wisdom. For in dealing with the great adversary of 
souls we have to encounter the subtlety of the serpent 
as well as the fury of the lion, and to accomplish God's 
purposes of mercy, requires guidance which the Lord 
alone can give. 

"One day, while confined by sickness to the house, 
there came to me a pitiful letter from a young woman. 


It had been flung out of the window of a house in Bos- 
ton, to the ash man, who was requested to take it and 
mail it. The letter read somewhat like this: 

" 'Dear Mrs. Hastings : I am in great trouble, for 
God's sake come to me at once and take me out of this 

hell. Come to number Green Street, and inquire 

for Mrs. ' 

*'Being sick in bed and unable to go in answer to what 
seemed to be a most urgent and pitiful call, we could 
only take the matter to the Lord in prayer. Perhaps 
the result may best be told in the language of another, 
who was then a faithful helper in our home, and whose 
story in substance is as follows : 

A Story of Rescue. 

I was sleeping one night in my bedroom, when about 
midnight I was awakened by a voice calling: 

"Annie !" 

"Yes !" I answered, and sprang out of bed, but found 
no one there. "That is very strange," thought I, and I 
went into the hall and called to Mrs. Hastings, who slept 
in the room below, but there v/as no answer; so I re- 
turned to bed and composed myself to sleep. 

When morning came and breakfast was over, and the 
men had gone away to their business, I prepared Mrs. 
Hastings' breakfast and took it up to her room. I said 
to her : 


"You were sick in the night, were you not?" 
"Yes," said she. 

"I thought you called me at midnight, and I came 
down, but you did not seem to be awake." 

The Prayerful Attempt. 

"Shut the door," said Mrs. Hastings, and when we 
were alone she took out a letter from under her pillow 
and gave it to me, and said : "This letter came yester- 
day; I am sick and cannot go, and Mr. Hastings and I 
have been praying the Lord to lay it on some one to 
go and get that girl. Perhaps you are the one to do it. 
You go and see about it, and I will stay here and pray 
for you every minute while you are gone." 

"I could not refuse, but started on this new enterprise. 
I went to Boston, walked to the designated place, entered 
the house without knocking, went up to the room and 

inquired for Mrs. . A slender young girl, perhaps 

eighteen years old, came to the door. I told her Mrs. 
Hastings sent me. She requested me to wait there in 
the hall a moment while she returned to the room. I 
waited and waited, it seemed to me an hour, hearing 
earnest talk inside of the room. At length she came 
out and invited me in, whispering that she must 
introduce him as her husband. I found within 
the room a man, the expression of whose face was per- 


fectly devilish. She introduced me to him as a friend 
of her mother's who had called to see her. He asked: 
" 'How do they know where you are ?' " 

And Satan Came Also. 

"She evaded the question, and said that they had traced 
her from the depot. He remained awhile, and, of course, 
little could he said, but it was doubtless evident to him 
that his room was much more desired than his company, 
and after awhile he withdrew, first exacting a promise 
that she would not leave the house, and then going be- 
low and making such arrangements as would prevent 
her leaving if she desired to do so. 

"When we were alone she told her story. She was 
the daughter of a widow in one of the New England 
States and had come to Boston to obtain employment. 
She was intending to make her way to the house of a 
relative in the suburbs, where she could remain until 
she could secure a situation. On arriving at the sta- 
tion she put her hand into her pocket and found that 
her purse was gone, and she was horrified and con- 
founded and knew not what to do — a stranger and 
alone at night, without the money to make her way to 
the place to which she intended to go, and with no one 
to whom she could apply for help. 

Just at this time a man came forward, and address- 


ing her courteously inquired what the trouble was. 
She told him her story. He expressed great sympathy 
for her, and said that he knew an excellent Christian 
woman who kept a boarding house near, and he was 
sure she would accommodate her for the night. Much 
relieved, she went with him to this house and found 
shelter, and was assigned a room where she was bidden 
to make herself comfortable. The door, however, was 
not fastened, and this wretch came to her room and she 
was at his mercy. 

"She had been there about a week, heartbroken and 
crushed. Her trunks were in the depot, she had no 
money, no friends, and no way of escape. I knew not 
what to do. The work was new to me, and I went back 
to Mrs. Hastings in Chelsea, and told her the story. It 
was the first time that I had ever seen anything like 
anger about her. She said: 

" 'You go right back this minute and get that girl, 
and bring her to me, don't you come back without her.' " 

The Second Attempt. 

"I went to the house, but the door was shut, and I could 
not get in. I went then to the police station near there 
and told my story. The police captain was incredulous 
and gruff and discredited my statement. He said: 

" 'You are bringing a very serious charge against that 


house, you are slandering the house; there is not a dis- 
reputable house on that street.' " 

"1 insisted that my statement was correct, and referred 
tli^m to the Scriptural Tract Eepository where they 
could learn all they desired about me. The captain 
took me inside the rail and said: *You stay here,' and 
then said to the officer: 'You go down to that house 
and see if there is such a woman there.' He went down 
and speedily returned, and said : 'There is such a 
woman there, but she is sick in bed,' The captain 
called two officers and said to them: 'You go down 
with this woman and get that girl and bring her out.' 

Saved as by Fire. 

"We started, and with one policeman to demand 
admittance, and another keeping in the rear in case he 
was needed, I was able to get into the house. I found 
the girl in bed, dressed her, picked up her satchel and 
took her out on the street, got her on board the street 
cars for Chelsea, two policemen following all the way 
until they saw her safely landed at the house, when they 
quietly retired. I took her checks and got her trunks 
from the station and brought them to the house, and 
we hid her, the most crushed and broken-hearted child 
you ever saw. She could not bear to see any one, and 
I doubt if any one in the house except myself and Mrs. 
Hastings ever knew she was there. 


After a week or so we found her a place in a respec- 
table family, as she did not wish to return to her home, 
and there she stayed for some two years, till after I 
had left the place and gone to other scenes. But she did 
not forget us. She came occasionally, bringing some 
remembrance or token of her grateful love to those 
whom God had used to deliver her from the gates of 
death and the road to Hell. 

"This instance, which is literally true in all its de- 
tails, may serve, perhaps, as a warning to some in- 
cautious young person who is ignorant of the traps 
and snares that are set for the unwary in the crowded 
city, and it may encourage others in the time of their 
distress to cry unto the Lord for help, assured that He 
who has so often delivered His people in the ages past, 
will not forget the cries of the helpless and distressed, 
but will prove Himself 'a, present help in every time 
of need.' " 

Rescued from The Strand. 

While writing this chapter Eev. Clarkson brings the 
following report from the White Cross work on The 
Strand, South Chicago, Several weeks ago while his 
brother was slumming with his band there they entered 
a place where they kept nine girls. In their personal 
work they found one girl who manifested a desire to 
get out, but who said she could not because they would 


not let her have her clothes (the clothes they are forced 
to wear while "on duty" remind one of the fig-leaf dress 
of Eve after she had fallen — so scant and lewd that to 
go on the street is utterly impossible). 

They told the poor child that if she really desired 
to go they would take her in some way. By this time 
the Madam showed signs of nervousness, hence one of 
the workers was sent to talk to her in order to divert 
her attention from the girl. Again she said, "I'd like 
to go, but they won't let me go tonight !" 

"Make up your mind quickly !" was the urgent plea ; 
"you may never have another opportunity to escape !" 
Biting her lips, she cried : "I will go !" The Madam 
protested, but in vain. They took her with them and 
brought her to Rest Cottage where she was soon after 
soundly converted and a week later sanctified wholly. 

Sold for Twenty-five Dollars. 

Now comes her sad story of capture. She had been 
married, but her husband had deserted her, taking the 
baby with him and had left her without support. She 
applied for a situation and was sent by some one to a 
woman on the "West Side. The woman's name was Mary 
(a procuress). She said, "I have no work, but I can 
take you to some one who has." She took her to The 
Strand where she was forced into the life of a harlot 
with escape barred by the usual subterfuges. 


i2 S. 3 

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2 o C 

T m '-' 

(H y. •-. 

o EtfQ 


Two of the workers were sent back later to get her 
clothes; but they were not allowed to take them. The 
Madam went to the telephone and called up the proprie- 
tor, acquainting him with the circumstances. Impa- 
tiently he said, "You should not have let her go ! She 
owes me money. Don't give them her clothes !" Some 
of the other girls in the house told the missionaries that 
the woman, Mary, had sold her to the Madam for 
twenty-five dollars. 

Saloons Linked to Brothels. 

The proprietor of this House has a saloon on the 
corner near the house of the woman to whom the girl 
applied for work. He is seldom seen in the vicinity, 
except when he collects his dues from his saloon and 
soiled doves. He certainly has a "pull" with the law. 
Chief Stewart has forbidden them to sell liquor in the 
resorts and to solicit from their doors and windows. 
The police come and go night and day, and they do 
both regardless of law. 

The young woman is delighted to get out and is 
willing to appear as a witness in court against her pro- 
curess and captors. Rev. Clarkson has placed the case 
in the hands of the Chicago Law and Order League. 
The happy woman is earnestly praying that she may 
le reunited to her husband and baby. God bless her ! 


And so we might continue. Each case is different, 
and yet similar. The red hand of the Hag on the 
Levee — the White Slave Traffic — is on them all. The 
cry and sob of the Outcast should melt a heart of stone. 
Behind the bars of the System she pines and dies. The 
admired, the sought after, the beloved one is today the 
toy of degenerate men. God sees the falling tears and 
hears the heavy sighs. He observes the slighting glances 
of those who profess to love Him. Will vengeance 
slumber? God pity us when the bowls of His wrath 
are poured out on this trifling nation. Leagues from 
grace, truckling with sin on the rim of Hell, the awaken- 
ing will be terrible. 

Vice in the Arms of Law. 

After reading and coming in personal contact with the 
White Slave situation today we almost f^l like asking: 
Are our children safe anywhere except in Heaven ? Re- 
doubled vigilance must be ours and a grip on God that 
shall bring things to pass. We simply must clean out 
this national curse. Vaunting vice lies in the arms of Law 
clad in the habiliments of harlotry. Nonenforced law 
has gone mad after the shekels that drop from the 
knotty fist of the System. Where will this end? God 
speed every effort to kill this foe. 

The Light, B. S. Steadwell, Editor, La Crosse, Wis- 


consin, U. S. A., publishes the following from the pen of 
Rev. Wm. Burgess^, entitled: 

"Snapshots from My Kodak." 

"The Western Union Telegraph Company." 


Chicago, Oct. 1, 1909. 


Girl baby born. Cannot live. Mother doing well. 

"This message received in a beautiful Wisconsin city 
during fair time. Twenty-four hours later the baby 
died and as the mother looked into its innocent face her 
heart almost burst; it was her Gethsemane. Had she 
borne her burden all these months — had she passed into 
the very portals of death for this? "Was this all? No 
babe to cry its wants ! ISTo draught upon the fountains 
of her breasts ! No response to her deep sense of love ! 
Oh, how her mother heart ached and rebelled ! Turn- 
ing her eyes from the little dead body, there stood her 
husband. His tall, bony frame shivered convulsively 
as he strove to hide the tears which persisted in coursing 
down his v/hitened cheeks. 

"The little mother looked and a new vision of life's 


riches came to her. The next moment she saw her only 
living child — a happy, lusty little girl of four summers 
past, whose sunshine was only shaded by an occasional 
shadow, like an April passing cloud; her merry eyes 
were now dimmed with a sorrow that she could not 
measure. And the mother saw the still sweeter vision 
of love's living joys. 

"They carried her babe away for burial and the little 
mother dreamed of it as an angel in heaven as she 
sang : 

" 'I would not see the distant scene, 
One step enough for me. ' 

The Cage with the Glazed Top. 

"That night of the telegraph message there was in the 
same city a girl of perhaps seventeen or eighteen. She 
was tall and attractive, with rare dark eyes and supple 
form. Her semi-naked body was the very expression 
of a sensuous life. She was one of four girls on exhibi- 
tion in a certain cinide and corrupt form of side-show. 
A roughly built cage was constructed, about eight by 
six feet. Men and boys paid their dimes to mount half 
a dozen steps to a platform built around this cage, from 
whence they looked down tlirough a glazed top into 
the cage in which were the four girls, surrounded with 
mirrors so adjusted as to make them appear to be some 


ten or twelve feet below. The entire show consisted of 
lewd looks and lewder dances of the girls with their 
bodies apparently upside down — an effect produced by 
the mirrors. 

"What was that girl to the mother who a few years 
ago looked upon her innocent eyes and blessed them? 
Could any comfort of heaven come to that mother did 
she see her dark-eyed daughter in this hell? If de- 
mons rejoice that a soul is dead, would it be any com- 
pensation to know that the poor corrupted body is as 
carrion to the vultures who feed upon human souls? 

"Probably that girl's mother, if living, hopes and 
believes the daughter dead. Would it not break her poor 
bankrupt heart if she knew her once beautiful and 
innocent child had fallen so low — lower, indeed, than 
one of whom Hood asked as if in tears — 

"Who was her father? 

Who was her mother? 
Had she a sister? 
Had she a brother?" 


"This is the story of a White Slave. 

"And why and when a girl is a White Slave has 
been seldom more fully told than lately in Magistrate 
Gorman's office, when D. Clarence Gibboney drew, 
sentence by sentence, a tale of despair and terror 
from the lips of Dora Rubin, eighteen years old, 
brought here from Austria. 

"As a consequence, Louis Kanter, of Chicago, New 
York and Philadelphia, is in Moyamensing prison un- 
der $2,000 bail for court. 

"Dora laid bare all the secrets of her life. She 
stood on the witness stand, and held out her hands to 
Magistrate Gorman, asking him to tell her first what 
was going to become of her. She is a typical factory 
girl — comely in face and figure, and with great black 
eyes, that looked searchingly at everybody except the 

"Him she avoided. Several times he sneered at 
her story, and she grasped the constable's arm as 
though seeking protection. Several times she winced 



as though in pain, and a physician, whom Mr. Gib- 
boney had brought to examine her, cautioned the 
questioner to be as lenient with her as possible, for 
her condition was terrible. A soiled black skirt and 
a pair of beaded house slippers completed her cos- 

The Slave's Story. 

"This is her testimony: While under Kanter's in- 
fluence she was known as Florence Feldman. She was 
born in a little province in Austria, and came to this 
country about a year ago to live with a brother in 
New York. Her father had been imprisoned for some 
political offense and her mother had died. She was 
about to be placed in a workhouse, when a steamship 
agent induced her to write to her brother. The latter 
sent the passage money, and she came to America. 

"Her brother was a journeyman tailor, but the 
hard times cost him his position, and he joined the 
army. Then she went to live with a friend in the 
East Side in New York, and obtained employment in 
a handkerchief factory. 

"A month ago she met Kanter in a cheap restau- 
rant — Sol. Feinstein's — where she bought her meager 
luncheon every day. In her many visits to the place 
she had become acquainted with a man named Sam. 
Sam was a sort of Poo Bah around the East Side, 


She did not know much about Sam except the things 
that the girls whispered. He also ran a dance hall. 
He always wore fancy clothes, and smoked gold-tipped 
cigarettes. All the young men went to Sam when they 
got into trouble with the police, and they were always 
freed. Sam used to bring gorgeous women to Fein- 
stein's place, and the women would always tell the 
girls of wonderful stories of the races and the theaters. 
Whenever a new girl came into Feinstein 's, Sam would 
buy her luncheon and ice cream. But, for all that, 
the girls were rather afraid of Sam, although they 
did not dare show it. 

She Falls in Love. 

"Kanter has blue eyes, great, heavy lashes and 
brows, even teeth and a frame like that of an athlete. 
Sam told Dora that Kanter owned the moving pic- 
ture show that she and her friends visited at nights. 
Of course, he was attractive, and Dora fell in love with 
him. He was kind to her, too, walking back to the 
factory with her and asking her to meet him at six 

' ' That night he called at her home and took her to 
the moving pictures. Afterward he bought oysters 
and gave her a little gold chain to wear about her 
plump neck. Then he suggested going around to 


a place where a friend of his had a phonograph. Lots 
of boys and girls were there every night, he said, and 
drank long glasses of tea and listened to the great 
artists sing through the phonograph. 

* ' Dora was quite blinded by the glory of it all. The 
house was grand, and a Negro opened the door. The 
phonograph was playing somewhere upstairsi, and 
Kanter told her to run along up — that he would be 
there in a minute. The house was in Broome street, 
near the Bowery, she said. Sam was there behind 
the glass door and several "grand ladies" were talk- 
ing to him. 

"Kanter joined her at the top of the stairs. He 
led her along a dark hall and opened a door. They 
seemed to be going away from the music, but Kanter 
declared that it was all right. He pushed open a door 
and also forced Dora, very gently, inside. There was 
nothing in the room but a chair and a bed. The blinds 
were drawn and the gas light was burning. Kanter 
put his arms around Dora and kissed her. 

Her Dull Wits Awake. 

"Then her dull wits awoke. She made a motion 
to leave, but Kanter put his back to the door and 
turned the key. She started to cry and Kanter be- 
(jame transformed from the suave friend to the de- 


mon. He seized her by the throat. If she uttered a 
cry her throat would be cut, he said, and she fell to 
her knees and begged to be taken home. 

* ' When she finally went home the woman with whom 
she lived berated her for being out all night. The wo- 
man questioned her, but she dared not tell of her ex- 
perience. Then the woman told her that never again 
could she sleep in that house. 

"That night as she was gathering together her few 
possessions Kanter called. He laughed at the w^oman 's 
rage and told Dora not to mind, that he had come to 
marry her. And Dora was very happy once more 
and quite forgave Kanter. 

"He told her that they would leave New York and 
Feinstein's and Sam. Sam was a bad man anyway, 
he said, and he, Kanter, was sorry he had been so 
rough. So they would go to Philadelphia, where every- 
thing would be well and they would be married. Dora 
believed all this and was so glad to see her troubles 
end so happily. 

The Thin Man With the Cigarette. 

"Two weeks ago they arrived in this city. Kanter 
took her to a house in Poplar street above Ninth street, 
where he had a room. Two men, Louis and Sam 
Fisher, were there, and Louis immediately came to 


Dora and placed his hand on her breast. He told 
Kanter that Dora was a fine-looking girl, but Kanter 
waved them back, and said the girl was to be his 
wife. That again convinced Dora that Kanter was a 
good man. 

** Kanter took her to the room, which was wonder- 
ful in Dora's eyes. There was a bureau with a big 
looking glass, a bed with a red quilt, a rocking chair 
and a little table with a powder puff and a comb and 
brush. A warm carpet was on the floor — something 
that Dora had never known before. It was very lux- 
uriant and Dora was very tired. She fell asleep, only 
to wake to find a man in the room. 

"It was not Kanter, but some little thin man with 
a cigarette in his mouth. She cried for Kanter, think- 
ing him her protector. Kanter was in the next room, 
looking through a hole. He rushed into the room, 
but instead of defending the girl drew the long knife 
and told her that she would be murdered if she made 
a noise. He would cut her throat, he said, if she did 
not obey the strange man. 

The Editor of a Jewish Newspaper. 

"Kanter arrived soon after and told her that he 
could not marry her until they had lots of money. 
She must continue this life for a year, and then he 


would marry her surely. There was nothing left for 
her to do, and besides there was Kanter's knife. But 
Kanter did not use the knife. Instead he kicked her 
and slapped her face. He did this whenever she be- 
came tearful and cried for her clothing. 

"Next Kanter took her to a house in North Ninth 
street, conducted by a woman named Barnett. The 
girls there treated her more kindly, and she became 
one of them. Always at one o'clock in the morning 
Kanter called for her and took all the money from 
her. Then he would take her to a restaurant and 
afterward to his room in Poplar street. 

"But one night a man came to the Ninth street 
house and wanted to kill Dora. What for she did 
not know until afterward. The Barnett woman told 
Kanter to take the girl away for she was very ill and 
could not stay there. Kanter took Dora to another 
house. This one was in a little street near Eleventh 
and Locust streets and was run by a Negro woman. 

' * There were two Negro girls and a white girl there. 
One night a drunken Negro attacked Dora and she 
forgot Kanter, forgot his knife, and threats and fled 
out of the house, clad only in a kimona. She ran to 
Eleventh street, where she stopped a strange man and 
told him what had happened. The man pitied her 
and called up a friend, the editor of a Jewish news- 


The White Slavers, Kanter and Sam. 

"A kind-hearted woman eared for the girl over 
night, and in the morning the editor notified Mr. Gib- 
boney. Then the girl broke down and pleaded with 
Mr. Gibboney to protect her from Kanter and Sam. 
Kanter was arrested by John F. Brownley, agent for 
the Law and Order Society. Brownley testified at 
the hearing and corroborated the girl's story. A let- 
ter, found in Kanter 's pocket, was read by Joseph 
S. Prenowitz, a journalist. 

"William E. Damon, a constable, testified that 
Kanter virtually admitted all the charges. Kanter 
did not testify, and his attorney, William T. Kelsh, 
offered no defense. 

"After the hearing Mr. Gibboney said that he be- 
lieved that the White Slave Traffic here was far worse 
than ever before. He would not say whether this 
case was one of many which he had under surveillance. 
He declined to talk about his future moves." 

"There are thousands of such cases here," said Mr. 
Gibboney. "The conditions are awful. I am not 
prepared to say whether a syndicate controls the 
traffic, but I will have important information to make 
public within a short time." 

The above is taken from the Philadelphia Ledger. 
We predict that newspaper notoriety is one of the 


means to end this Traffic in Souls. Once the great 
dailies of our country take up the hue and cry, we 
hope for results. The nominal church seems not to 
rouse to her opportunity, we are sorry to see. One 
hopeful fact we record here for encouragement, and 
that is, the ministry is waking up to the alarming 

The writer was recently permitted to hear Rev. 
Chas. G. Kindred, pastor of the Englewood Christian 
church, Chicago. He is thoroughly awake on the sub- 
ject of saloons and the Red Light District. He said, 
in substance: "The Red Light District is tolerated by 
the Church. We speak much of the sacredness of 
motherhood. She goes down to the grave to give birth 
to our children, and trains them for God ; but the men 
tolerate the vice centers where her children are ruined ! 
The 'far country' is not in Palestine, but just a little 
way around the corner from our residence. Every 
vice-spot is punctured by a church spire. 

"If our flag were to be insulted in these districts, 
what would happen? Every boy in Illinois would 
shoulder a gun and avenge the insult. But they do 
greater insult than to insult our national flag; they 
insult our motherhood. Our men stand inactive by 
and tolerate it." 

His eloquent charge fell clear as a bell, and car- 


ried no uncertain sound. that the churches of this 
city would unitedly march upon this Eed Insult and 
throttle it to death! 

White Slave Stockade. 

The Kansas City Times of May 4, 1910, gives the 
following from New York : ' * Harry Levinson, under 
indictment as a 'white slaver,' told the District At- 
torney to-day that there are at least three 'stockades' 
in New York, in each of which from five to ten young 
girls are kept ready night and day for delivery where- 
ever they may be wanted. 

"Little effort, said Levinson, is made to recruit 
women from the street. The stockades are filled from 
the host of young girls who are unhappy at home, or 
who live narrow lives on their own earnings and long 
for leisure, good clothes, gayety and freedom from 
restraint. Women who wear good clothes make it a 
business to single out such girls and, first winning at- 
tention with an invitation to dinner, then describe 
the ease and pleasure of the alternative they pro- 

' ' The girl delivered to the stockade, it then becomes 
the business of the proprietor to place his merchan- 
dise. In this end of the traffic, Levinson said, he was 
a "specialist. His business was to find a house where 


the girl was wanted. The house paid the stockade 
keeper a lump sum and allowed Levinson ten per 
cent of the girl's earnings. Levinson said he began 
as a salesman of women's raincoats." 

From this we see that the System actually exists 
and does a flourishing and vaunting business. The 
seller of women's raincoats finds it more profitable to 
sell women's bodies and souls. The political world 
side steps in fear of official crimination. The nomi- 
nal church sighs, folds her hands, and says: "We 
just can 't do anything ! " In the meantime our daugh- 
ters are a prey to the lecherous, unhindered maneu- 
vers of the White Slave Trader. 




Heigho! higho! Come, ye buyers? 

We have chattels here to sell! 
We are known as law defiers, 

Walking on the brink of Hell. 

Here is one! See, how she quivers! 

Young and beautiful, and fair. 
While ye bid, her fine form shivers 

In an uttermost despair. 

Ha! here comes a well drest Madam 

Seeking chattels for her trade. 
Buy, ye fallen sons of Adam! 

Low the price to you is made. 

Madam gets her! Fifteen? Yes, sir! 

Cheap for such a likely thing. 
Take her to your "House" and dress her — • 

Feelings to the Devil fling. 

Here's another from the coffle. 

Put her on the Auction Block. 
Tho' the trade's declared illegal. 

Bid! — nor fear the after ehock. 


THE system's boast. 

Ha! we laugh at law and order, 

We care not for woman's tears. 
Yearly we enlarge our border, 

Trembling not with guilty fears. 


Vaunting Vice, in scarlet trappings, 
Hollow chested, painted jade, 

"With her ceaseless window tappings 
Calls to passersby for trade. 

Thirty thousand fallen creatures, 
Crowded round the Bed Light flame. 

Brutalized, with blanching features. 
Fill our nameless graves of shame. 

We have here the Red Light chattel. 
Moaning in her prison stall. 

Choose ye! Buy! Cost? Less than cattle! 
Do not heed her plaintive call. 



From the countryside and city 

We have trapped them for our trade. 

We know neither love nor pity. 

Care not how our wealth is made. 

Take her from the arms of mother 
To the brutes that tramp our street. 

All your finer feelings smother — 
Let her ruin be complete. 

Fresh and sweet our stalls she enters. 
Quickly passing down the Line 

Of our city 's wide vice center 

Where the System's lure lights shine. 

Next the hospital and table 

And the surgeon's gleaming knife. 

Heritage of ' * Nell " or " Mabel, ' ' 
Caught and sold into "the life." 

PUBLIC AUCTioisr 237 

Wrapped about with linen winding 

Lies the victim of our Trade, 
Waiting for some mother's finding, 

Or the cart and sexton's spade. 



Buy, ye traders 1 There are others! 

We supply the world's demand. 
We care not for crying mothers — 

Buy her! take her to the Strand. 

If you want some fancy chattel 

For the Traffic on the Line, 
We can furnish them, like cattle, 

Supple form and features fine. 

What care we for tears and crying! 

For the System's sighing Slaves! 
What care we for thousands dying! 

For the moon-kissed nameless graves! 

Heigho! higho! Come, ye buyers 

We have chattels here to sell! 
Buy their bodies, law defiers, — 

And then send their souls to Hell! 

Spend no time in idle pity 

For the victims in your toils. 
Fill the Levee of your city 

With the System 's fairest spoils. 

Drown the smart of Conscience speaking 

In coarse ribaldry and wine, 
Close your ears to lost ones shrieking 

In their torment on the Line. 


Let your heart, still harder growing, 

Close to every tender tie. 
And, though you must reap your sowing, 

Every law of love defy. 


THE system's death RATTLE. 

Hark! I hear the rattling Stranger 
Knocking at your wicket gate — 

Hist! full well you see your danger, 
But you see it now too late. 

Justice calls for retribution, 
Innocence demands redress, 

Strikes the hour of dissolution. 
In your utter hopelessness. 

Seller, Traffic, Madam Passion — 
Forces of the System's spell — 

Shall, with all your traps and fashion, 
Perish and go down to Hell. 



The liquid notes of feathered songsters fell on the 
mellow morning air to the merry second of the winding 
brook that purled and played through meadow and 
woodland. With his tail swung, plumelike, over his 
back a red fox squirrel frisked merrily from bough to 
bough in the spreading elms while a "red-head" played 
a quick tattoo with his long sharp bill on a hollow limb. 
The busy hum of bees at work in the blossoming bass- 
woods' was pleasantly interspersed by the occasional 
musical screech of a blue jay. A chorus of excited caws 
on the eastern edge of the woods intimated that an in- 
quisitive hawk or a prowling owl had invaded the sa- 
cred and select precincts of crowdom. A farmer plow- 
ing his corn for the first time "geed" and "hawed" to 
"Kate" and "Nell" in an earnest endeavor to center the 
row. All this comes rushing back on memory's wings — 
this delightful Spring morning of the other years. 

Whispering Wind Fingers. 

The writer had just climbed over the moss covered 
"worm fence" into this woodland Eden, fully alive to 



all the delightful sights and sounds of the morning. 
The delicate scent of wildbloom lay sweetly on the air 
and the dew sparkled on the grassy dell fringed by the 
leafing hazel. The brook brawled noisily on in liquid 
song, the bees buzzed busily by laden with their load of 
bloom-drawn sweets and the under-tree air was heavy 
with a delightful, woodsy smell. 

Nature — God's Out of Doors — was all atune. The 
whispering wind-fingers struck softly across the vi- 
brant strings. The melodies that fell from Nature's 
Harp can not be described nor successfully caught on an 
Edison Amberol. 

Here and there a corrugated mushroom had pushed 
its gray head up through the mold and dead leaves 
during the night, ready for the picking. The fat, fluffy 
fellows in the basket seemed to smile a merry welcome 
to each new-comer during the profitable quest. Pres- 
ently the lid was closed upon the May-feast and we 
were ready to leave the woods to take the good find 
home to mother. 

The Serpent in Eden. 

In leaving the woods with his basket of mushrooms 
the boy's attention was attracted to the peculiar actions 
of a bird sitting, or rather crouching on a low-hanging 
bough. It fluttered its wings in an unnatural and 


helpless manner as though in great terror and unable 
to get away. Beneath it was a plot of grass through 
which swung a larger and lower branch and there, close- 
ly coiled around the gnarled limb, with its head erect 
and its forked tongue darting in and out of its flat 
mouth, lay a snake. Intent only on luring its victim 
to death it had not observed the approach of the hu- 
man intruder. Its eye shone with a crafty gleam which 
held the fluttering bird in its insidious charm. Here 
was a tragedy being enacted on Nature's own stage be- 
fore a spellbound audience of one. 

It was not long until the bird left the limb; but in- 
stead of flying straight away it flew in large circles 
over its enemy with the swaying head, ever and again 
emitting that deathlike cheep, seemingly utterly unable 
to break away from the coiled foe in the grass. The flat 
head with the out-darting tongue drew it gradually 
lower and closer. The evil charm of the serpent held 
the bird completely in its power. There was no escape. 

Shorter and shorter still grew the rounds of flight 
and lower and lower still fell the circles to the darting 
tongue and swaying head. The victim panted from 
fright and exertion and its doom lay near. 

The fox squirrel barked noisly overhead and a blue 
jay screamed in a near by thorn tree. The cawing of 
the crows had grown distant and dim. The farmer's 


voice came faintly now from the other end of his corn 
field. In its setting of blue the sun hung like a golden 
ball, its rays filtering softly through the newly leafed 
boughs. From the hazel-fringed grassy slope a cool 
Spring zepher blew while Innocence lay under the 
lure of the Syren. 

A Streak of Brown and Yellow. 

See ! the circles are narrowing and shorter now. The 
birdie pants and its wings droop almost helplessly by 
its side in its nameless terror. The agonizing cheep 
holds in its short, faint utterance a despairing quaver— 
a hopeless cry before the death-stroke is dealt by the 
swaying head above the scaly folds — presto ! a rasping 
sound from the grass as the foe uncoils, a streak of 
brown and yellow, a low, last cheep and the drama is 

The woodland incident that transpired that spring- 
time morning is as fresh in the writer's mind to-day as 
though it had occurred but yesterday. More than thirty 
years have passed by, but the swaying head of the ser- 
pent, the birdie's cheep of terror and the final climax 
has never been forgotten. Let us see whether we can 
find a counterpart to this long-ago scene. 

The busy day of a busy city had just closed. The 
street was still crowded ^\'ith home-'yoers and late-stavers. 

The Affable Stranger. 

The strans'or, schooled in his seductive art, 
Soon wins the unsuspecting maiden's heart. 


A young girl, perhaps not too carefully reared, walked 
briskly on when suddenly she was accosted by a well 
dressed stranger. Surprised, she stood a moment look- 
ing at the man, when he apologized, saying, as he tipped 
his hat: "Pardon me. Miss, but I thought I knew 

The Affable Stranger. 

The too ready smile on the young girl's face invited 
advances and a conversation began. The stranger's af- 
fable manner and immaculate dress, his gleaming white 
teeth and glittering diamonds and his generally free- 
and-easy bearing disarmed a not too strong suspicion. 
The bird sat swinging on the limb and the snake lay 
in the grass ready coiled for the lure. 

Home training counts. 0, if parents would only 
erect and maintain a family altar and teach their chil- 
dren to pray in their early youth, they would be forti- 
fied against our modem free-and-easy social intercourse 
and street-strolling. In too many instances the children 
are allowed to play in the streets from early childhood, 
the parents little concerned what the awful harvest will 

As they grow older they make the street a field for 
a wider acquaintance and pleasure. The cancer of sin 
has laid siege to their moral nature. The preaching of 
an arch-angel would scarcely stir in them a single long- 


ing for holy living nor one remote conception of what 
life means. No wonder our altars are deplorably empty 
and our churches lamentably wordly. 

Country vs. City. 

"0, I wouldn't raise my children in the city for any- 
thing!" is the oft-repeated exclamation of country 
mothers. The writer contends that no matter whether 
it be in the country or city, training counts. He recalls 
some disgraceful things that occurred in our boasted 
Christian (?) land. 

Near a certain Indiana town lay a beautiful cemetery 
(if we may call a cemetery so), made more so by a clump 
of pine trees standing on a central knoll. It was observed 
that during the twilight evening hours young couples 
daily sauntered toward this cemetery. Suspicion was 
aroused and private detectives detailed to watch the 
lovers. And there, on the bed of pine needles, in the 
presence of a hundred corpses in this lonely graveyard, 
lay the amorous lovers in the arms of Lust. To-day the 
public wonders why the beautiful pines were cut out of 
the cemetery. Ah, sir! we are face to face with si^il 
The only remedy is Christ, the Hope of PIumanity. 

The writer has lived both in the country and in the 
city. "While on a farm a year ago he was forced to 
take his children out of school entirely because of the 


lustful language and evil practices in the toilet-sheds. 
He is convinced that the morals are as low in the country 
as they are in the city. He has nine children, some 
nearly of age, but up to this time they do not carry their 
own latch key. They have been taught obedience and 
do not care to indulge in the modern amusements young 
people think necessary to their happiness. Thank God 
for His grace that makes this a possibility ! 

Hickory and Prayer. 

"We repeat. Christian training counts. Evangelist 
E. A, Fergerson says that "hickory and prayer" are es- 
sentials in the rearing of children. He is right. There 
are too many Elis who do not "restrain their sons," and 
the result is wasted and blasted lives. To be stern does 
not mean that you can not be kind. Nor is it true that 
a punished child loves the parent the less. 

There is a time when children must be "broke in," 
if you please. When they begin to stiffen out in your 
arms like a ramrod that is a good time to bend the twig, 
lest the tree grow crooked. In other words, children 
must be conquered. After this has been accomplished 
(God can help you to see how), then keep them con- 
quered. It is false to assert that they will not love you ; 
they will love you more. 

A number of years ago the writer spent some time 


each morning in a police court, more especially where 
the refractory juvenile cases were handled. He saw 
there little fellows scarcely in their teens charged with 
petty thefts and various misdemeanors. In most in- 
stances the mother sat beside her wayward offspring with 
red eyes and shamefaced mien. 

The sentence of the judge was usually, in substance, 
as follows : "Madam, would you be willing to take your 
child into the adjoining room and in the presence of 
this officer give him a thorough strapping?" A reluc- 
tant "Y-e-s" came from her trembling lips and she 
filed out. Soon the lusty cries of the culprit were heard 
and the smiles of the spectators showed that the medi- 
cine was taking effect. 

Would it not have been much better had she applied 
liberal doses of Solomon's ointment in the child's earlier 
training? How much shame and heartache she would 
have been spared. The saddest part of all is that, once 
her boy was hailed into court, he would almost invariably 
reappear until, old in years and crime, he filled a cell in 
Joliet or swung into eternity from the end of a rope at 
the spring of the gallows trap. What applies to the boy 
applies to the girl. 

More Plum Sprouts Needed. 

We have to-day, even among the holiness evangelists 
some who scathingly denounce corporeal punishment. 


The writer is thoroughly convinced that mother^s "strap- 
oil" was an excellent cure for lassitude along the lines 
of obedience in his own particular case. 

True, some children can be controlled by a word or 
even a look, but this scribe was not one of that kind. 
Mother's "look" generally had to be supplemented by 
something more convincing. God bless mother! mother 
and the rattan; and father with his peculiar mode of 
punishment that did duty in lieu of a plum sprout. Each 
served its purpose and, together with their strict disci- 
pline and prayer three of their boys are today holiness 
preachers and all the children are saved. Praise God ! 

Who can measure the power of influence ? A mother, 
awakened at last, came to an evangelist and cried: "0 

brother L , please pray for my boy ! He ran away 

to sea, I cannot understand what induced him to do 
such a thing ?" The evangelist asked : "May I go to his 
room?" The request being granted, he entered the 
room, closed the door and sa-t down. His attention was 
at once attracted to a large ocean scene that hung in a 
beautiful gilded frame at the foot of the boy's bed. 
Arising, he left the room and said to the anxious 
mother: "1 have found out why your boy ran away to 
sea!" Together they repaired to the room when the 
evangelist pointed to the painting where a vessel rocked 
across the white capped waves with a few sea gulls float- 
ing lazily on the lee side of the ship. 


At night when he retired the boy saw the rocking ves- 
sel on the wave. In the morning the first thing his eyes 
saw was the vessel plowing onward to its distant port. 
A longing sprang up in his heart to try the swing of 
the wave and sail from port to port over the rolling main. 
The power of influence. 

Fashion Set By Paris Harlots. 

What are you setting before your children? Clean, 
pure pictures ? A chaste deportment and a holy conver- 
sation? The father smokes. Ere long the son steals 
away and smokes dead grape vines, then the cigar stub 
and later the deadly cigarette, and the ruin is wrought. 
The mother dresses after The Delineator, or in still 
more modern fashion. The daughter imitates or exceeds 
and strolls the streets bedecked with jewels, garbed in 
so voluptuous a manner that her form is shown to full 

Recently a young woman of this type was strolling 
back and forth on an elevated station in the Loop, Chi- 
cago. A dozen men oggled her lecherously as she strode 
and strutted, the demon of lust awake in every unregen- 
erate heart. woman, in the name of decency, please 
dress in a modest and becoming manner ! Do not let 
the Paris harlot set for you a style that awakes the Lust 
demon in your unsaved observers and causes a good man 


to turn away in disgnst. The downfall of many a girl 
may be traced to her own or her mother's foolish, sinful, 
immodesty of dress. 

More might well be written on this subject to good 
profit, but we refrain and return to our subject. Let 
us see what progress has been made. Ah, see! she has 
been induced to take supper with the affable stranger 
at a questionable restaurant. See how generously he 
has supplied her plate with the best of the House. All 
his epicurean tastes are doing service to-night to the 
undoing of his victim. The unsuspecting bird is held 
in the silly charms of a highly possible actual romance 
and sees not the gleam in the eye of the traducer. She 
does not hear the scaly rasp of the serpent's folds in the 

False Modesty Ruinous. 

Mother, here is your daughter. See her now as she 
sits there with the tempter. Whether her training has 
been such as to warn her against the stranger and the 
wine room or not, here she is. Perhaps you are one of 
those who, so foolishly modest, prate about "innocency" 
and "chastity of speech ?" If so, as you see her to-night, 
reflect on your false course. 

Foolish woman! Had you taken the young thing 
aside to your room some quiet evening and said: "My 
precious daughter, I have some plain but necessary 


things to say to you to-night. You will soon be a woman 
and should know what I am about to tell you in order 
that you may guard against the pitfalls and snares that 
are laid to catch you. There is a commercial price on 
your head, ranging from $2.50 to $1,000. Wicked men 
are ever on the alert to traduce womankind. Be on your 
guard. Avoid the suave stranger as you would a rattle 
snake. Our Red Light Districts are full of once unsus- 
pecting girls — White Slaves, if you please, whose escape 
is so seldom probable," etc. 

But no ! you thought it highly immodest to talk thus 
plainly to the daughter God had intrusted to your care 
and training, and now, as a result of your false modesty, 
she lolls in amorous pose before the schooled man of 
lust. See the narrowing circles of the bird! listen to 
the low, scaly creep of the serpent's folds as he stirs in 
the grass, and catch the gleam of lust in his eye. 

The Fatal Wine Room. 

Next — exit, restaurant ! Enter, wine room ! See her 
now, the vain and flighty thing. The red wine is doing 
its work. The womanly self respect is going fast. Her 
wine-addled brain reels under the mad whip of passion. 
Her feet, made to walk in the paths of righteousness, 
find more congenial pose in mid air, servants of the 
nude Jade of Shame. Her attire loses its virtuous set 

The Fatal Wine Room. 

And there, with drugged potations at her hand, 
She soon will he "another" on the Strand. 


and her disheveled hair falls in careless strands over her 
lolling form. The clear blue eye, once pure as the over- 
head sky in its trusting glance, holds in its maudlin 
depths a strange, significant glow not lost to the viper in 
the grass. 

This is the ante-room to Hell, this rear-saloon wine 
room. The voters have put it there, and now they allow 
it to remain there. Says one of this crowd : "We must 
have the licensed saloon in order that we may have cob- 
ble stones in our streets !" The echo of the lie has scarcely 
died when over these same cobble stones, bought and 
laid with the price of blood and souls, we hear the rattle 
of the undertaker's cart as "one more unfortunate" is 
borne to the potter's field. 

Says another : "We must have licensed saloons in order 
to educate our children !" and then — to-night — the wine- 
trap in the licensed corner saloon springs, and the girl 
we educated on the price of this infamy is wneducated 
and prepared for "the life," the hospital, the morgue, 
the cheap pine coffin, t]ie cart rattling over the crying 
cobble stones and the nameless grave. We borrow of 
Hell a few burning dollars to enjoy life's luxuries we 
could better afford without the licensed saloon, and then 
send our children there for all eternity to pay off the 
principal and interest when the Devil forecloses the 


"Furnished Rooms" to Let. 

The night is growing late. A cathedral clock strikes 
the hour of twelve. Good people (the people who voted) 
have long since been in bed. But here where the lights 
glow and the fire flies play a restless multitude tramps 
wearily on to its woe. Eaucous, discordant, the electri- 
cal instruments of the dens in the District throw out their 
amorous call as the crowd of degenerate males tramps by, 
on to their doom. 

The drunken girl had left the room of wine and 
ribald song with the affable stranger. The wicker doors 
of a near by dive swing in and then swing out, and 
they have passed from sight under the sign of the "Fur- 
nished Eooms." The bird's circles of flight are growing 
smaller now. Dazed and bewildered under the spell it 
follows the serpent's lure to the sad climax. 

The chain of artifice is drawing to its close. Liberty 
has been left outside the swinging wicker doors and 
"the life" begun. Bolted doors bar all exit now. A 
Madam's watchful eye and cruel heart keeps close vigil 
over the stranding wreck. The lure was strong under 
the wink of a corrupt police administration, and the 
child became the victim of The Traffic. 

A few jingling dollars dropped into the affable stran- 
ger's palm from the dainty, bejeweled hand of Madam 
Passion, and the ruin is complete, the rescue improbable. 

Led to Shame. 

Her Tjrain on Are, he leads her from the place, 
Through swinging wicker doors to her disgrace. 


the early grave a certainty. The vote of a slumbering 
Church, the wine room in the rear of a licensed saloon, 
the pander's possible success, the shame-stalls on the 
Levee, the growing success of the System, this, all this 
evidences that sin has a frightful grip on humanity. 
Christ is the only Sure Hope of ever abolishing this 
stinking curse in our cities. 

A Stern Summary. 

The sequel to our woodland tale, accompanied by our 
suggestive photographs, is not an imaginary picture. 
The last stage of this poor child's career of shame closes 
behind the bars in the rear of some shame-stall on the 
Line. Here the weary days drag by as her life wears away 
under the awful debauchery she is forced to go through. 
Beer and drugs must buoy up the shattering forces of 
her outraged mortality in order that the days of shekel 
returns may be lengthened out to their maximum for 
her lord and keeper. Poor child ! 

The large pipe organ trills and groans and trembles 
under the touch of genius. Talent soars in trained 
rhythmics to the carved ceiling of the costly structure un- 
der the silent applause of the churchly, worldly crowd. 
Silks and costly array brush silently down the padded 
aisles and well groomed forms recline in cushioned pews 
listening with "itching ears" to the empty ethics of their 


craven hireling. The newspaper calls this worship. We 
call it a farce. 

A few blocks removed from this modern religious bur- 
lesque lie the shame-stalls of the System. The whole 
night through Lust, clad in her amorous robes of scarlet, 
walks over the prostrate forms of the System's Slaves. 
The bejeweled Hag leers through her latticed windows 
on the Line and smacks her thin, shriveled lips over her 
clanking chalice into which the vintage of woe from a 
thousand bleeding hearts has been pressed. The hollow 
chuckle of fiends is heard in the raucous rasp of the 
instruments, and the tramp of doom falls from the drag- 
ging heels of the Levee throng hopelessly adrift on the 
tides of sin. 

Gilded Contrasts. 

There seems to be a contrast between the pipe-organ 
crowd and the Levee throng, but in realtiy the differ- 
ence is but slight. The only marks of difference is in 
the gilding and veneer. The latter flaunts the rag of 
vice openly, the former assumes a Pharisaical saintliness. 
The enormous rent returns from the brothels on the 
Levee row lie in the safety deposit vaults to the credit of 
many who are part and parcel of this Twentieth Cen- 
tury apostasy. The hireling does not rebuke, since his 
quarterage comes from this source. When Hell claims 
her own it is possible that the veneer crowd will be seated 

In the Toils. 

Now bolt and bar hold in the prisoner fair, 
Caught by the well-schooled stranger in the snare. 


a tier higher up in the sooty amphitheatre of the Pit, 
who knows ? Is it any wonder that the Traffic in Girls 
is not wiped from our cities' maps? What are we to 
expect from this Christless crowd ? 

However, not all churches come under this arraign- 
ment. Some there are, thank God, who heroicallj fight 
this Evil, But even at that the progress is painfully 
slow. The hand of mercy and help is not yet too openly 
extended to the erring sister. With holiness on our 
banner and death to sin and compromise our slogan, the 
poor unfortunates have not yet found out that we love 
them. Where now the few fight the Traffic at its swing- 
ing doors, the many stand idly back in vain lament. 
However, we see signs of an awakening. Thank God for 
the coming day when the forces of our Christ shall march 
unitedly and determinedly upon the cowering, cringing 
Hag on the Levee to end her traffic in virtue ! All hail 
the day! 

We close this chapter with a tragic description of one 
whom the Serpent lured to her ruin. It was taken from 
the "Caught in the Crowd" column of the Houston 
Chronicle and reprinted in Rev. J. T. Upchurch's Purity 
Journal, entitled : 

"Tragedy in Life." 

"It is (and more is the pity) but one more example of 
hundreds of such instances which we can but too surely 


find in and around our cities if we but take the time to 

" 'A rag, and a bone, and a hank of hair,' Kipling's 
lines, never found more fitting application than in the 
sallow slip of humanity that shuffled into a Houston 
pharmacy last night to barter a dime for dope to rekindle 
around her parched brain the fever pictures of drugged 

"On her yellowed features, in haggard lines, the pitiful 
picture of dissipation was so frightfully painted that 
those who saw stood aghast. 

Blackened Teeth Seemed Only Fangs. 

"Her cheeks were sunken, her eyes gazed upon you 
without seeing, her blackened teeth seemed only fangs 
for finding the bitterness of the wicked pills that had 
kissed her once roseate lips to sapphire blue. 

"Her figure was too emaciated and lost in dirty gar- 
ments even to guess at its symmetry in days gone by. 
Yet time was when this avatar of womanly degi-adation 
was a beautiful girl, for the clear-cut features living 
beneath the mask of despair told as much. A wayward 
curl echoed it as it stole from the mass of ill-kept hair 
in mockery of the past. 

"She seemed more like a spirit from another world, 
careless alike of her ragged raiment and of the common 


rabble as she moved along, lost in an all-consuming de- 
sire for drugs. 

Vanity Eloped with Beauty. 

"All instinct of womanhood had flown from her be- 
ing; vanity had eloped with beauty, and honor was not 
even a memory. Dissipation joined hands with degra- 
dation to mould God's masterpiece a being at which 
shame itself must stand appalled. 

"Poor little woman ! Once your life was radiantly 
beautiful, as that of yonder girl in the polished carriage ; 
your soul was as pure as the white rose that blooms above 
the green glacier. Now, your very touch is polluting, 
your life a curse, and your presence a reproach. 

"Once you were a little girl, romping and rolling in 
the sunlight of a mother's love. Once you were some- 
body's darling; but to them you are dead, and silvered 
locks are bowed in grief as the evening of life fast turns 
to dusk. 

Crooned to Sleep By Mother's Low, Soft Chant. 

"Gazing on the disappearing form a picture comes out 
of the past; a picture as plain as the golden dipper is 
shaped by the stars at night's high noon ; a panorama of 
the outcast's life. Born of love, nurtured through all the 
months of aches and pains, crooned to sleep by loving 


mother chanting soft and low; then waking hours, and 
chubby hands clutch strands of hair and baby's face 
breaks wide to smile over mother's mock of pain; time 
runs on through light and love, and baby's lips are 
shaped to speak the holiest word that tongue may utter 
— mamma ; then, tiny rattles grow still and dollies come 
to be scattered on the floor in early night, while maraud- 
ing empress of two hearts steals quietly to mother's knee 
says in childish accents soft and low — 

* * ' Now I lay me down to seep, 
I pray the Lord my soul to teep ; 
If I should die before I wake, 
Eeceive my soul for Jesus' sake. 
Dod bless mama and papa, an ' make me a dood dirl. ' 

"The panorama shifts; the years have grown apace, 
the prattling babe of yesterday stands blushing on the 
threshhold of womanhood, laughing at the lengthening 
though gathering shadows of the years, budding ambition 
is just peeping above the purple horizon of life. 

Only a Girl's Ruined Life. 

"Around her stand buoyant friends of her youth. 
Among then the soft-tongued tempter, whom she loved 
not wisely but too well. Lured by love's all-consuming 
flame she took the downward plunge, and from the depths 
she sank still lower, until in seeking to forget sought 


drugs and forged the chains that bound her soul to her 
appetite and made her a votary of vice. Somewhere out 
in the world is the man in whose heart is a great white 
gash of this woman's disgrace. 

"It is only a girl's life ruined; only a human being 
down in the depths; only a woman's soul silently drift- 
ing down, down into the cold, dark forgetfulness of the 

"A few more years and the *rag, and the bone, and the 
hank of hair^ will be sleeping beneath the running vine, 
thin wan hands will be folded across a motionless breast. 
But not a tear will be shed over the plain pine coffin. 
No loved one will press upon her brow love's last and 
holiest kiss. Eough hands will grasp her frail form and 
hurriedly cart it to the potter's field, where in ribald 
and jest the erring dust will be consigned back to the 
clay while somewhere in the world a scoundrel moves in 
polished circles seeking whom he may devour." 



I am only a poor old harlot 

Adrift on the city street: 
A mark for the wintry tempest, 

The rain and the falling sleet. 
I am known as a Levee Outcast, 

Shunned by the passing throng; 
Despised by the good and forsaken, 

Adrift on the path of wrong. 

1 once was as fair as the fairest. 

And pure as the drifting snow. 
But I fell in a single moment 

To the depths that swirl below. 
The pledge that he gave me was broken. 

The love that I bore he slew. 
And now I am only a harlot. 

Adrift with the Red Light crew. 

There is one I have not forgotten. 

The one from the other years: 
The face with the lights and the shadows, 

The cheeks with the falling tears. 
She weeps for her erring daughter. 

Adrift in the slums to-night — 
O God! bless my dear old mother!' 

She who taught me to know the right. 

'Tis back to the days of my childhood. 

My mad brain would lead to-night, 
Back, back to the fields and meadows, 

Back, back to the love and the light. 
Far back to the dear old homestead. 

So safe from the world's alarms. 
Back, back to the days of kindness 

And rest in my mother's arms. 


A harlot's soliloquy 269 

I'm tired of the life on the Levee, 

I'm tired of the sin and the strife, 
They'll soon drag me out from the river 

And mourn neither sister nor wife. 
The hospital lurks in the shadovsrs, 

Disease has its hand on my heart, 
The papers will say, "It's another," 

Then the coffin, the spade and the cart. 

The yellow moon glares in the heavens. 

The stars twinkle out from the sky. 
The shredded clouds scurry to cover, 

The populace hurries on by. 
"What hope can there be for a harlot 

Adrift on the wide city street? 
What hope for the Outcast so weary, 

And the ruin so almost complete! 

The cribs and the dena on the Levee, 

The men tramping by the night long; 
The noises and raucous confusion. 

The harlot's debauch and lewd song — 
All, all make me weary and heartsick, 

So tired of the life in the toils. 
I hate the whole crew and the System 

Of virtue exchange and cheap spoils. 

I'm tired of the life of a harlot, 

I dread her deplorable fate. 
I wish I were free from the trammels, 

But fear that to-night is too late. 
The clean and respectable people 

Look down on me now with disdain, 
O, all my repinings and longings 

Are utterly useless and vain. 


I know there's a Hell and a Heaven, 

A place of a future estate, 
What hope for the jade on the Levee 

To pass through the Beautiful Gate? 
The good turn aside as they pass me, 

They want not such Outcasts as I — 

God! must I perish unpardoned? 
And thus in these shame-quarters die? 

But lately I sought out a shepherd 
Well fed in his cozy retreat. 

1 told him my heart-breaking story, 
And humbled myself at his feet. 

He knew not the way of a sinner 
Held down by this system of lust. 

Instead of the soul-food I wanted 
He threw me a beggarly crust. 

It seems I remember a woman 

Once stood in the presence of Him 
Accused by the pew and the pulpit. 

Just caught in the act of her sin. 
He silently traced with His finger 

Sweet words to the wandering child. 
And when they cried out, "Shall we stone her?" 

He silently wrote as He smMed: 

"Let him without sin in your circle 

"Be first to cast at Ler a stone." 
And lo! they slunk out from His presence 

And left the poor harlot alone. 
When Jesus looked up from His writing 

He saw not a churchling was there, 
Save the woman, the Outcast, the harlot 

Bowed low in her sin and despair. 

A harlot's soliloquy 271 

"Pray, woman! where are thine accusers! 

"Have they not condemned thee?" He said. 
* ' Nay, Lord ! ' ' she replied, and she trembled. 

As she saw He her life-story read. 
"Then neither will I condemn thee," 

Said He to the sin-weary soul. 
Then, ' ' Sin no more. Go ! " He said gently. 

And she was made perfectly whole. 

Could not He who saved that poor harlot 

Give ear to my heart-weary cry? 
I'm tired of the life on the Levee 

And the crowd that goes wandering by. 
I am faint! — things grow dark! I'm dying! 

* ' O Jesus, have mercy ! ' ' she said — 
They found her crouched low in the gutter. 

The wand 'ring old harlot was dead. 



In a southwesterly direction from Sioux Falls, South 
Dakota, lie three "hotels" of questionable repute. They 
have been raided again and again and the inmates fined. 
In every raid the public was officially informed that the 
harlots had left the city. However, the closed cabs mov- 
ing southwestward from the city in the dead hours 
of night toward these "hotels" led an innocent (?) 
public to conclude that the buzzards had found their way 
back to their old roosting places. 

Dame Rumor and Madam Hoyle. 
In one of these resorts Madam Hoyle one day closed 
her life's ledger. The reluctant undertaker had prepared 
the "carcass" for a decent burial. According to Dame 
Eumor it seemed impossible to find pall bearers to carry 
the dead harlot from the resort to her grave. Those 
who had been her patrons in the palmy days of dollars 
now absolutely refused to touch her rotting remains. 
Necessity finally succeeded in covering the dead de- 
generate with friendly clods and they left her there 
until the last resurrection. 



The writer passed these notorious resorts many times 
during the Summer of 1909. The alternate raids and 
fines, and midnight cab maneuvers were still in progress. 
The city authorities were as tolerant of these vice-nests 
as Chicago is of her Levee. No doubt the probe would 
reveal the usual political corruption and official tolerance 
in Sioux Falls as it does in other misgoverned cities? 
What a frightful curse this fair but proud city of sin al- 
lows on her borders ! Grace is a scarce commodity there, 
and holiness is a thing not desired in the churches. A tol- 
erance of the "hotels" is the natural consequence. The 
spasmodic feints of the city to close these resorts fail to 
convince the innocent (?) public that there lies no cor- 
ruption beneath. A sound. Christian city government 
would have made a Hoyle case impossible. 

How sad to see this poor harlot pass thui into eternity. 
Even the stinking buzzards who had not yet wiped their 
red beaks from the gruesome feast of putrifying Lust 
refused to go near her disgraced mortality. "The way 
of the transgressor is hard." 

Madam Deeds and Conquering Grace. 

To contrast this sad incident we take from Eev. C. E. 
Cornell's private scrap book the following striking event 
clipped from The Evansville Courier, April 3, 1905. It 
occurred under his immediate evangelistic services in 


that place and shows that, no matter how low in sin a 
woman may have fallen, Jesus will save to the utter- 
most her who repents and believes. We give it exactly 
as the Courier has it : 

"Mrs. Martha Deeds, the notorious fortune teller and 
keeper of a disreputable resort on Franklin Street, re- 
cently converted to Christianity, was the principal at- 
traction at the revival services last night at Evans hall. 
The big hall was packed. Every seat in the auditorium 
was occupied and the sides of the interior were lined 
with men and women while men and boys filled every 
doorway and window. Many not being able to gain 
admission left the hall before the services commenced. 

"There was silence throughout the big auditorium 
when Revivalist Cornell walked to the front of the 
stage and introduced Mrs. Deeds as one of the most 
notorious women in the city, who had recently found 
salvation at the Kingsley church meeting. 

"Mrs. Deeds never faced so many people before in 
her life. The crowds that have heard her talk have 
usually been no larger than could be accommodated in 
the little police court room. Then as time after time 
she appeared in court charged with the violation of some 
law, she spoke in a low, strained voice as she made her 
plea for leniency and her promise to reform. 

"Last night she walked boldly to the front of the 


stage and at once began her discourse which was des- 
tined to cause many a man and many a woman to 
squirm and to wonder just how far she intended to go 
in exposure of rotten social conditions of the city. Mrs. 
Deeds excused herself for not being able to make herself 
heard all over the house on account of the very bad cold 
from which she is suffering, and then plunged at once 
into her subject. 

The Madam's Ringing Testimony. 

" 'I have led a life of sin for many years/ she said. 
'For nineteen years I have conducted an immoral resort 
in this city. I have been a fortune teller, and though 
I did not realize how wrong it was at the time, I do 
now. I have seen many homes ruined and I have seen 
many innocent girls sacrifice their virtue and their good 
name for the lust of money.' 

"Sweeping her hands out over the audience she con- 
tinued: 'Looking out at this audience from the stage 
to-night I see many people who have been frequenters 
of my house. Oh, I know you all. I could point all 
of you out. I see married women who have come to my 
house and married men, yes, some of you gray-haired 
men have come to me and offered money to procure the 
ruin of some young girl. Oh, I know you. I see some 
of you here to-night and if I wanted to I could point 
you out and call your names. 


" 'Evansville is one of the most wicked cities in the 
country. I was a Christian woman when I came here. 
I was ruined here, but I intend to stay right here and 
live down my old life. My house is open to all Chris- 
tians who want to come and pray with me. My house 
is now a house of God. No longer are the windows dark 
or the doors locked. I am not doing what I am for a 
show or an advertisement. I am trying to serve God 
and if I am not sincere in what I say to-night I hope 
He will strike me dead. 

" *I have been seeking to be a better woman for months. 
My old mother gave me a little Bible and for the past 
few months I have been reading it in the hope that 
somewhere in its pages I would find peace. I have worn 
it threadbare, but the peace I sought I could not find. I 
thought God was an enemy of mine until my eyes were 
opened and my heart was filled with love at the meeting 
a few nights ago. I want you all to be Christians.' " 

O Matchless Grace! How Wonderful! 

What a marked difference between Madam Hoyle and 
Madam Deeds. One lies dead in her harlot's den, no 
one willing to carry her filthy remains to the grave; 
the other redeemed by the precious blood of Christ, testi- 
fying to its wonderful power. The one has lost the love 
and confidence of an entire city and community, the 


other is rising grandly under the marvelous transform- 
ing grace of God into the respect and admiration of the 
auditorium audience. 0, matchless grace! how won- 
derful ! 

When Samuel F. B. Morse sent his first message 
along the wire before an incredulous public it clicked 
from the key at the other end, "What wonders hath 
God wrought !" When Madam Deeds lay stretched out 
on the floor in that revival under the stress of battling 
soul-forces and she arose a redeemed soul, by faith we 
hear the wireless instruments of the skies click out the 
glorious news to an incredulous world, "What wonders 
hath God wrought !" Marvelous, matchless grace ! 

What God does for woman he does for man. We give 
the testimony of several who have been saved from lives 
of sin. The object in giving these cases here is that 
hope for a better life may spring up in the heart of 
some poor lost soul to let Jesus come in. The men in sin 
are white slaves as well as the women in the System's 
resorts — slaves to sin. To those we say, Jesus can save 
you from the life. He can so completely change your 
desires that you yourself will be astonished, if you will 
let Him. 

"Lion of Judah" Breaks Chains. 

If you are a slave to tobacco, opium, morphine, co- 
caine, liquor or lust, there is deliverance for you by 


simply quitting your sins, repenting, and by a simple 
childlike faith believe Jesus forgives you. As you 
believe He does the work you will feel the rich warm 
glow of His wonderful pardoning grace — the witness to 
the granted pardon. 

We here give two testimonials only of men to the re- 
deeming power of grace. We could give many more; 
but the two we give are corroborated by the thousands 
we do not give, hence these will be sufficient. We pray 
that God will use them to lead some wandering one into 
the fold. 

"April — , 1910. I want to praise God to-night for a 
free and full salvation. He is able to keep us from all 
sin. I am so glad that Jesus ever came my way. Bless 
His name forever ! 

"On a Saturday night seven years ago (May 9, 1903), 
while walking down State Street in the city of Chicago 
in search of a good time, I was a sinner. I had been in 
the habit of going out on Saturday night to drink and 
carouse, frequenting gambling places and questionable 
resorts. On this particular night my steps were arrested 
by a man preaching the Gospel. I heard him tell how 
God had changed his life. Young men lately saved also 
testified that God had delivered them from the appetite 
of strong drink and other sinful habits. When they 
sang "There is power in the blood," I cried, "Oh God, 
if you could save those men, why can't you save me?" 


"Brother Clarkson soon gave the invitation for all 
who wished to be prayed for to raise their hand. My 
hand went up. God showed me then and there what 
an awful sinner I was. He next asked all who had raised 
their hands to kneel with him in prayer. I knelt and 
asked God to forgive me. When the prayer was over I 
told Brother Clarkson that I had determined by God's 
help to lead a different life. We again knelt in the 
street and prayed, and bless God ! He answered my 
prayer ! He forgave all my sins. 

"When I arose from my knees the burden of sin was 
gone. How Jesus satisfies the heart when He comes in. 
That night was the turning point in my life. Through 
trial and temptation Jesus has these seven years kept 
me by His grace. His grace is enough for me. His 
blood covers me just now, Halleleujah ! 

"Julius J. Ek." 

Ek's God May Be Your God. 

Brother, what God did for Mr. Ek He is waiting to 
do for you. If he can keep Mr. Ek for seven years He 
can keep him for seventy years. He can keep you, too. 
There is no limit to the saving and keeping power of 
God. The Christ of Calvary is abundantly able to save 
and keep you till you pass safely through the gates 
into the "Pearly White City." Hallelujah ! 


Our next "case" is one of unusual interest. This man^ 
Dick Lane, was a criminal for fifty years, but God saved 
him. To-day his shining face and ringing testimony 
would make you feel like shouting. The writer heard 
him recently in a Mission and felt the marvelous thrill 
of a redeemed life during his remarkable testimony. We 
will let him tell his own story, necessarily much abbrevi- 
date, as he told it in The Life Boat : 

A Personal Letter From Dick Lane. 

"Dear Friends : I take this opportunity to drop you 
a few lines. I am ten years and two months old the 
16th of this month. These have been the happiest and 
sweetest ten years of my whole existence on earth. I 
met a good Christian man this morning whom I had not 
seen for years. We were up in the Stillwater pen to- 
gether. We got to talking about prison life and he said, 
'Dick, I don't see how we ever could have lived that 
kind of a life.' 

"A great many ex-convicts come to me here and say 
the police will not let them alone; but if they choose 
good company the police will cease to bother them. I 
had the hardest work of my life to get them to leave me 
alone. When I came to Chicago the chief of police 
would not give me permission to remain in the city 
twenty-four hours, but after they saw that I was living 


honest they did not trouble me. I believe every ex-con- 
vict has the same chance that I had. I am glad to say I 
have met many ex-convicts in Chicago and elsewhere 
who are now leading honest lives. 

Idleness and Whiskey Work Ruin. 

"If a man wants to make a success of life he must 
make up his mind that he has got to earn his own bread 
by the sweat of his brow. That is the great trouble with 
BO many — they do not want to work — and what is sur- 
prising to me is that during my fifty years of criminal 
life, serving time in six different 'pens/ I met so many 
men who were industrious and saving while in prison, 
but as soon as they got out they got into the bad life. 
When a convict comes out of prison he often is not 
himself. The freedom surprises a man. It sometimes 
makes him so he does not know what he is doing for a 
while. If he goes and fills up on whiskey, then he is 

"Three of us who were formerly convicts sat down in 
a gentleman's office here a short time ago. We had all 
been in Jackson prison. One man had ten years, I had 
five years, and my friend three years. One of those men 
is now president of a coffee plantation in Mexico and 
the other man owns a nice fruit farm over in Michigan. 
I made a remark to them that 'Suppose I had told you 


when in Jackson prison we would be filling the places 
we are now, would you have believed it?' They smiled 
and said they did not think they would. 

"Time would fail me to tell you of all the ex-convicts 
I know who have made a success in life after they got out 
of prison. All the men I have been acquainted with 
since I started out in the new life who have tried to help 
themselves and asked God Almighty to help them, have 
all been successful. I even know a woman who, when 
she came out of the 'pen/ was homeless and friendless. 
She never knew what hard work was, but she tried to 
do what was right and went to work. Now she is 
making a good honest living. 

Reformation vs. Transformation. 

"I have often heard something said in prison about 
reformation. I want it understood there is nothing 
in it. There must be a tmnsformation! When God 
Almighty comes into a man's life and transforms him, 
no one can stop his progress. 'If God be for us, who can 
be against us?' 

"Ten years and two months ago I did not have the 
price of a meal of victuals. I did not know where I 
was going to sleep, but when God converted me He 
made a new creature out of me. He put me to work at 
seven dollars a week; from that they raised my pay to 











f <u 


twenty dollars and with that I have secured a good 
house and lot of my own on the West Side. This is what 
the clean life does for a man. 

"Mr. H. H. Kohlsaat told me the other day that if 
I ever wanted a letter of recommendation for my hon- 
esty to come to him and he would give me as good a one 
as I could wish. 

"In the old life nobody would trust me; every hand 
was against me; but from the moment I became con- 
verted and gave up my life to God I have not known 
want." (Instead of Dick Lane being one of the most 
dreaded safe-breakers in this country, he is now filling 
a position of trust and responsibility in the Chicago 
Record-Herald office, and is an earnest soul-winner. 
What God has done for him, He is willing to do for you. 
Will you decide to let him?— Ed. of The Life Boat). 

We close this chapter with a stronger faith in God 
than ever before. The marvelous transformation (not 
reformation) of Mrs. Deeds, Ek and Dick Lane tell us 
that there is yet power in the blood to save to the utter- 
most all who will come unto him. If you will look at 
"Dick's" picture you will see he looks youngest where 
he is oldest. Such is the power of our wonderful Ee- 

We thank God for the privilege of recording these 
incidents of His saving power. May more than one 


discouraged soul find Him who could transform the 
notorious Martha into a gentle Mary, the wandering 
prodigal into a praying priest and the half-century safe- 
blower into a shining, shouting saint. Once more we 
hear the hum of the wireless as the good news over "one 
sinner that repenteth" is flashed from earth's low sta- 
tion : "What wonders hath God wrought !" 


On the West Side, Harrison Street, lies Cook County 
Hospital. Grouped around these buildings are dental 
and medical institutions. On a beautiful day the well 
kept grounds surrounding the sombre brick walls give 
the place a peculiar softness of expression and the 
casual observer scarcely dreamed that inside were tears 
and suffering and death. 

Accompanied by Mr. Clarkson, a friend and the 
warden we made a tour of inspection on a beautiful 
afternoon in May. Here sin came to view in the form 
of afflicted humanity. Little children lay on their little 
white cots, some strapped and rigged with various ap- 
pliances, generally contented and as care free as our 
own. The nurses moved about quietly, to adjust a dis- 
comfort here or to supply a plaything there. Altogether 
they were as comfortable as care and kindness could 
make them. 

The Syphilitic Wards. 

"Yisiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the chil- 
dren unto the third and fourth generation of them that 



hate me" (Ex. 20: 5) was here evidenced in the syphi- 
litic wards. Bandaged heads and ugly ulcerations on 
the innocent little ones pointed back to the sin com- 
mitted on the Lines, the Strands, the Levees. One 
such little one, lying on its side on the cot, seemed so 
forsaken. Its little body shook as it sighed in its in- 
fant grief and on each unkissed eheek lay an unwiped 
tear. Its pretty little finger was in its mouth, and as 
we came near it cast sidelong, questioning glances at 
the strangers. By its forsaken attitude it seemed to 
say, "0, no one cares for me ! I'm only an outcast's 
child. I have no mother to comfort me when I cry 
nor to rock me to sleep under the soothing spell of 
some sweet lullaby when I have gro-uoi tired of play. I 
will go through life, if I live, an 'orphan,' bufPeted 
about on the tides of time" — and as it sobbed to itself 
in its loveless isolation, it seemed to emphasize, "0, 
no one cares for me !" 

The Sobbing Bit of Humanity. 

It was a sweet child. From its ears ran a stream of 
pus — ^the sewer flow of sin from its Levee progenitors. 
The occasional sob nearly broke our heart. Poor little 
sufferer! No doubt kind hospital physicians and nurses 
do for you what lies in their power? but you need a 
tender mother's touch and love and caress. As we 

.^ - tc 



0^ tH 

^ o 


looked upon this helpless bit of sobbing humanity lying 
there in its woebegone condition the blood in our veins 
coursed hot against the System's nefarious trade. Some 
conscienceless degenerate was even then intruding his 
polished presence upon some other fair girl, while the 
mother of his illegitimate had found her way to the 
resort or the grave. 

We now entered the syphilitic women's ward. Here 
the warden introduced the nurse and left us. She kindly 
showed us through and gave interesting bits of infor- 
mation. Several girls were lying dressed, on their beds. 
"One," the nurse said, "a little thing, said to me yes- 
terday: *Nurse, when I get well and get out again, I'm 
going to be a good girl !' " May it be so, for indeed 
but few are "good girls" after they get out. 

As we passed around the room one aged habitue stood 
with her hard, horny, scaly feet soaking in a prepara- 
tion of soap-suds "with the hope" said our nurse "of soft- 
ening them so as to ease the pain. She's an incurable, 
and we can't keep her here long," was the comment. 

In rounding the farther end of the room of helpless, 
many of them hopeless cases, one young woman lay 
reading a New Testament, "That's it, that's it!" en- 
couraged Mr. Clarkson, and she nodded assent with an 
appreciative smile. 0, when in the presence of death 
and eternity the little Testament is eagerly perused 


with the hope that entrance through the pearly gates 
may be obtained. Poor girls ! May the dear Shepherd 
find you and gather you to his bosom. 

"One More Unfortunate." 

Our photographs were obtained on a subsequent visit. 
The nurse holds in her arms an infant from another part 
of the room. Before us, with her face turned this way, 
lies "one more unfortunate" just drawing her last breath. 
She had been dying for some time and is now near the 
borderland of the supernatural. As our visitors pause a 
moment to gather the full import of the situation the 
death-rattle and the convulsive shiver lend awesome- 
ness to the scene. 

One by one they pass in, and then over, and then 
out — in from the Levee, the West Side, the Strand, and 
over the river to the Shadowlands of the Beyond, and 
out to the yellow mound where the sighing winds whis- 
per low lullabys over their intended graves. Let us 
hope many find pardon as they are about to cross the 
Great Divide. That some find Christ before they pass 
away is evidenced in numerous instances, one of which 
we give. Miss F. Mable Dedrick, Missionary of Moody 
Church, Chicago, relates the following: 

*'Go with me if you will to Ward 11 of the Cook 
County Hospital where we will find a girl who had 

4i brx3 

c p 




been led away into sin and is now dying a horrible 
death. Soon after this girl came here we held a service 
and she was very much touched. As I went to her bed- 
side she burst into tears and said, "I need Jesus, so 
much, but I am too wicked for Him to save me." I was 
unable to say much to her that night as it was time for 
leaving the ward, but I returned a day or two later 
and was able to plead with her for some time and as a 
result I led her to the Savior that can save to the utter- 
most. She realized that she was very wicked and could 
scarcely comprehend that He was willing to save her. 
She was only twenty-one years of age and had been in a 
life of sin about three months. Her father was in the 
Asylum at Dunning and her mother had been dead 
five years and she was the oldest of five children. 

Lillie Saved on the Border. 

"The girl married a man much older than herself, 
from whom she had separated. She seemed very sincere 
and in earnest and I feel very clear that she accepted 
Jesus Christ as her Savior. I asked her one day if 
there was anything I could get for her and she pleaded 
for some flowers, but when I took them to her she was 
slowly passing away and almost too weak to care for 
them. I went to see her from day to day and after a 
little time she grew worse rapidly. Her condition waa 
Buch that her body waa simply rotting away. 


"As I went to see her the last time, she said to me 
'It is all right. I am going to trust Jesiis.' She sud- 
denly passed away very early one morning and I can 
not he gi'.ateful enough to Grod for the opportunity to 
bring this dear girl to Christ. I have never stood be- 
side a bed where my heart ached more than it did for 
Lillie. She was very patient and uncomplaining and I 
know God for Christ's sake forgave her sin. Jesus said, 
'N'either do I condemn thee.' " 

Thank God for a salvation that saves the dying har- 
lot. It may be hard ( !) for the respectable element to 
understand that in Heaven she will be pure and holy and 
will sing with us around the throne of God; but it is 
true. Grace wipes away every sin-stain and when her 
body comes from its nameless mound it will be a glori- 
fied body and will be very beautiful and shine for ever 
and ever. the transforming power of grace ! It re- 
generates and cleanses so completely that the one once 
lost will be the companion of saints and angels and the 
beloved of the Father in Heaven. "I want to go there, 
don't you ?" 

Caught in the Snare. 

Our next point was the syphilitic men's ward. The 
downcast look and shamefaced mien betrayed their guilt. 
Old, middle aged and young they lay in their corrup- 

CO ^ ^ 

•4-' " — ' 

o -^.r 




tion, all hoping to be restored to health. As we were 
about to pass out one poor fellow pulled his arm out 
from under the coverlet, beckoned excitedly and finally 
cried in a weak, hollow voice, "Clarkson ! Clarkson !" 
We turned and said to our colleague, "Clarkson, he 
knows you!" Our friend stepped back, talked a while 
with the poor fellow and then left him. 

Mr, Clarkson had met this man years before in the 
Loop where he practiced law. He was a brainy man and 
seemed successful in his work. But he had gone in to 
her of the painted face and habiliments of lust and now 
lay rotting out his sin in the hospital ward. He liad 
been there four or six weeks, and said: "I'll get out in 
two or three weeks !" He would, indeed. However, not 
through the front street entrance to life's activities, but 
through the back door in the coffin and cart to the 
graveyard. His hollow chest and hollow voice betrayed 
the unmistakable approach of the rattling stranger. 

Our last point of interest was the morgue. In huge 
glass cases lay the wrapped, mummy-like corpses, the 
look of surprise when Death laid its icy fingers on trem- 
bling heartstring still marked on each hard, hopeless face. 
The staring eyes and open mouths of sin's victims lying 
here furnished a marked contrast to Wesley's expression, 
"Our people die well." 


Our Summary. 

With a last look and a shudder we left the sombre 
walled structures behind ; the sobbing little darling in its 
silent grief;, the languishing habitues of the District and 
the waiting corpses in the morgue with a better concep- 
tion of sin and its awful consequences. We saw that 
if we would have empty syphilitic children's wards we 
must strike directly at the head of this curse ; viz. : the 
System — segregated vice, or all vice, if you please. If 
we would save the brainy lawyer and the little girl that 
wants to be "good" from these wards let us prevent their 
going there by enforcing the laws against vice. This 
only will do the work. 

In conclusion, we ask God's richest blessing on the 
physicians and nurses whose duty it is to look after these 
unfortunates. We wish they might all know Jesus in 
His saving and santifying power in order that they may 
press to the lips of the dying the cup of salvation. 0, 
what an opportunity here to point souls to the world's 



The sea churned its brine and foam on the sharp 

toothed rocks of W . Frazzled clouds, torn and 

shredded by the shifting tempest, were scurrying across 
a storm-cast sky in phantom swiftness. Pieces of wreck- 
age, ropes and cordage, wearing apparel, trunks and 
trinket came awash with each new wave as it dashed 
high over the sloping sands where the rocks loomed sul- 
len and gray through the mist and spray and darkness. 

Lighthouse Signals. 

The distant lighthouse had faithfully flashed its sig- 
nals at regular intervals during the night, but the ves- 
sel had sustained too great an injury while still far out 
at sea, hence no signals of distress could be given as she 
neared the friendly beams, and she went to pieces in a 
raging sea. All on board sank beneath the sullen waters. 

The sea had been lashed to a fury for three days by a 
frightful storm. It had hurled its force against the un- 
yielding rocks of gray and far out over the low line 
of sandy shore as though it would elude the whips of 



the tempest; but ever and ever it fell back irito its hol- 
low bed with a surge and roar. With each leap against 
the sharp teeth of the gray rocks it spit huge mouthfuls 
of foam into the face of the wailing winds, but without 
avail. The rocks stood unyielding there. The bed lay 
ever ready to receive its force-spent waves. Then it 
gathered its volume of power into mountain height vast- 
ness and bounded like some evil Fury over the low 
sands, seeking thus an escape from the storm king's re- 
lentless chase ; but gradually and firmly the rising shore 
pushed back in deadly undertow its on-rushing force, 
and it crept back to its lowly bed moaning and restless 

sea ! thou ever rolling sea ! how like man's heart art 
thou ! Unsatisfied, backward and forward, up and down 
in thy undulations, and ever unstable as time rolls on. 
No one but the lowly Galilean can rock thy restless 
waves to sleep. Nothing but His "Peace, be still !'" can 
ever assuage the storm in the unregenerate heart of 

The Dead Libertine. 

The morning had come. The sun shimmered through 
the breaking clouds. The storm was spent. The sea 
had ceased its raging, evidently satisfied with its victims 
of the night. The shore bore evidence of its cruelty. 
Here and there and everywhere lay proofs of its awful 


On a pile of cordage^ seaweed and wreckage, lay a 
man. Apparently he had moved in the upper walks 
of life — upper as the world calls it. He was of a fine 
figure, dressed in a suit of black, and wore a diamond 
ring on his finger. In his pockets were found a deck 
of cards in a gold case, a check book, several bank notes, 
a wallet and some water soaked cigars. 

The face was of striking beauty, but underneath the 
fair exterior lay lines of sensuality. The forehead be- 
tokened a high grade of intelligence, but the staring 
eye, the sensual mouth and the bull dog jaw told the 
close observer that he had lived but for himself. 

The letters they took from his pockets corroborated 
the suspicions. They had been written to artless young 
women, and breathed of a devotion the viper never felt. 
Several, written by these ensnared doves, plead pitifully 
for protection from an unforgiving world. The answers 
penned were so delicately worded that the victims trusted 
their traducer still, although the well chosen words in 
his epistles cast them aside forever. 

Traffic in Virtue. 

The Hand of Justice had steered the ill fated vessel 
into the teeth of the gale. Dual Damon had found a 
watery grave. The life preserver had never been made 
that could keep him afloat. As he was washed over the 


breaking side of the vessel he sank and was flung out 
on the pile of cordage and debris, a dead libertine. His 
career on earth had closed. He would beguile pure wo- 
manhood no more by his suavity. He would break no 
more trusting hearts. 

The brothels in the Eed Light District would no 
longer reap victims lured to a life of shame by this hu- 
man viper whose pockets were filled at so much per head. 
The Madams of this Christian (?) land must now draw 
from other society renegades to fill their "houses" with 
soiled doves — the victims of our vaunting libertines. 
Our subject had been removed from such scenes of ac- 
tion. As the storm roared in his ears and his breath 
lost itself in the froth of the churning sea, his soul left 
the sensual clay and he went to his own place — to De- 
mon Land. 

Costly Funeral Trappings. 

They carried him away and prepared him for burial. 
The doting parents who had spoiled the boy looked upon 
the reaping of their sowing and cried with a great and 
bitter cry : "Our poor boy ! our poor boy \" Poor indeed. 
In life fine linen and sumptuous living ; in death — in the 
Beyond — a beggar in rags. In life pleasures sensual; 
after death torment eternal. 

The costly shroud lay loosely upon the senseless clay, 
the diamond ring still sparkled on the shapely finger and 


the face was beautiful still ; but, somehow, the air seemed 
pregnant with a dread presence of evil that could be felt 
b} the watchers at his pall. The death of the ungodly 
is always an unpleasant thing. The canny feelings pre- 
sent when with such a corpse means that demons swing 
low over the empty form to gloat over the completed de- 
struction of a soul for which Christ died. 

The coffin was costly. The satin trimmings were rich 
and rare. The funeral train was long as it wound over 
the hills and vales to Greenwood. The eulogy by Dr. 
Speakwell was characteristic of our modern times; viz., 
to send to Heaven the broadcloth crowd regardless of 
what their life's record may have been. They laid him 
away in a magnificent tomb in the city of the dead and 
his soul trailed out into the Great Unknown. 

The Hawk and the Canary. 

The dove with the outstretched pinion, emblem of 
purity, hovered over "The Gates Ajar" on his tomb- 
stone. A more fitting sjTnbol would have been a hawk 
swooping down on a defenceless canar}"-, or a fowler in 
the act of drawing the snare. And thus they left the 
lifeless clay of Dual Damon, surrounded by the rich 
trappings of the dead, and returned to their gods of 
gold and sensuality and pleasure. While they are gone^ 
let us take a journey to the realms of Dives to see what 
took place in the land of lost spirits. 


A Graveyard Dialogue. 

"Farewell, old body mine !" said Damon, as he looked 
down upon his lifeless clay when they closed the coffin 
at the graveside; "you and I shall never meet again." 

"Do not be too sure of that," said a voice at his side. 
Startled, he looked up to see a shade from the lower 
world seated at the head of his body. His face was so 
full of cunning that Damon instinctively drew back 
with fear. Terror struck his soul with a deadly chill. 

"Wliat do you mean by that statement ?" cried Damon 
quickly, as he saw other demon forms grinning in the 

Demon Exegeses. 

"I mean," said the ebon shade, "that this sleeping 
clay you now bade, as you thought, an eternal farewell, 
shall some day be raised from its long slumber in the 
general resurrection. Your immortal spirit shall then 
reinhabit this loathsome, unchanged mortality through- 
out all eternity in the confines of despair." 

"But why this resurrection of the body?" asked 
Damon with haughty air. "I never heard reference 
made to this dread ordeal in prayer or sermon. I never 
heard it read from the Book from whence all the ter- 
rors of the damned were culled." 

"Softly, my haughty lord .'" ?.nswered the shade ironi- 


cally. "I see you are illy prepared for the frightful 
changes that await you. The reason you never heard 
reference made to the resurrection of the wicked dead 
was that you listened only to the long-frocked hirelings 
of the aristocracy who mouthed their hypocritical plati- 
tudes but to tickle the ear, lull the conscience to sleep 
and to draw sheckles into their wallets. If you had read 
the Book for yourself, from which you now seek to draw 
some alleviating balm, you would have observed that the 
resurrection of the body is there clearly taught. 

Demon Land Punishment Defined. 

"The glories of Heaven are there wonderfully por- 
trayed, but the horrors of Hell are just as specifically 
described. The reality of one place is no more firmly 
established than the reality of the other. The eternal 
and ever shifting beauties of Heaven are there, but the 
frightful and shifting changes of the World of Horrors 
— Hell — are just as truly there. One is as true as the 
other. The God-inspired Word was written in mortal 
language, but between the lines of that written Word 
lie changes of bliss or stretches of agony that could not 
be couched in human language. 

"Angels are constantly employed to draw from the 
inexhaustible resources of Heaven pleasures for the 
redeemed that far exceed anything that may be com- 


prehended by finite mind. Likewise are demons con- 
stantly employed originating torments for the lost so 
pregnant with cunning and dread that finite reason would 
lose its balance should the realities of this fell place burst 
upon it. 

"You will be introduced to phases of torment in your 
disembodied state that will astonish you. You need 
not ask for Scripture proof. The Book you ignored can 
now bring you no surcease from the woes you thought 
were conjured up only for the simple; these woes are 
now yours. The character of this place is chaos — pan- 

Demon Cunning and Torture. 

"Refined cunning and cruelty receives the merit mark 
of our Dictator. There is no limit here to modes of 
torment. These are as varied as the inventive skill and 
cunning of experienced demons can make them. You 
manifest surprise that your initiatory woes seem so at 
variance with what you think the Scriptutes portray? 
And yet, had you carefully studied them you would have 
observed that you had only the earthly-language side 
(which side, by the way, was sufficient for you) ; but the 
other-world side can not be compared with that. The 
former was sufficient to give you a glimpse of the dread 
results of a life of sin. 

"In studying that phase of Hell you would have dis- 


covered the deeper significance of what you are now 
about to experience. The torments of Hell, as well as 
the glories of Heaven, are so far beyond what human 
language could possibly convey that astonishment over- 
whelms the disembodied arrival here. Therefore, since 
by your sinful neglect and indulgence you have missed 
the glories, we will see to it that you do not miss the 

"Most worthy shade," queried Damon sarcastically, 
"perhaps you think me weak and soft enough to believe 
that the torments of Hell are literal? Our modem 
divines did not so teach. They, if they believed in a 
Hell at all, thought it a place of conscience smart. They 
spurned the thought, old time and threadbare, of literal 
fire and brimstone. This twaddle about literal fire to tor- 
ment the lost is unorthodox. It cannot find place in the 
mind of intelligent beings!" 

A Literal Hell. 

"Unorthodox! shades of torment ! What do you know 
about orthodoxy? Certainly you did not form its ac- 
quaintance in the haunts of vice you frequented ? Your 
lofty ideas of punishment shall soon receive a rude shock. 
The popular conception of a humane Hell is set entirely 
aside by the Book, as you will soon experience. The 
literalness of Hell has always been ignored by the hire- 
ling, but to his own destruction. 


"I see by your skeptical mien that a little more in- 
fetruction is necessary on the subject of Hell. Since you 
have not investigated the matter in life, I will instruct 
you at greater length here. I will now prove to you 
by the Book you spurned that Hell is a place; a place 
of torment eternal; a place of torment eternal for both 
the soul and the body. 

Heaven and Hell a Place. 

"It is true that the doctrine of an eternal Hell, with 
its 'fire/ 'fire and brimstone/ and 'lake of fire/ as well 
as all the other attendant horrors of punishment for 
the soul and body of the wicked, and demons, is scouted 
by the modern churchling and his formal followers. 
However, they scout this contrary to the teachings of 
the Word. 

"He whom you rejected and despised declared to 
His disciples: 'I go to prepare a place for you. And 
if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, 
and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye 
may be also' (John 14: 1, 2). You see by this quota- 
tion that Heaven is a prepared place for a prepared 

"Eejectors ofl God's unmistakable declarations re- 
garding Heaven as a place find no difiiculty in believing 
this statement and all the inferences relative to the 
same. But upon the doctrine that Hell exists as a 


place, they at once fling out their false theology and 

"While in the throes of indescribable agony Dives 
cried to Father Abraham regarding the almost certain 
and undesired coming of his five brothers to this dread 
place of woe, saying : 'Lest they also come into this place 
of torment!' As to it being a place, skeptical as you 
are, you already begin to see. I will now endeavor to 
give you a little light as to its punishment. 

Hell a Place of Punishment. 

"Hell exists as a place. This I have established by 
sufficient Scripture proof. It is a place of punishment. 
It is a place of suffering for lost souls and demons. 
Human language but faintly describes what the awful 
horrors of Hell-punishment are to be. The unrevealed 
glories of Heaven that lie hidden between the lines of 
the Sacred Page are no more true than are the unre- 
vealed horrors of Hell that lie there. Imagination 
cannot conceive ordeals of torture which adequately 
convey to the mind yet finite their awfulness. 

"Hell is a place of eternal surprises. New tortures 
ever meet deeper tortures as the soul trolls on over the 
waste shards of Perdition. You may sneer, but do not 
forget that you have entered upon just such a career. 
You will soon be introduced to some of the ever shift- 
ing changes of torment. 


Dives Called to Witness. 

"Objectors to a Hell constantly assert that there 
could not be there the literal fire as taught by the Book. 
By their fine-spun false theology they ever seek to 
smother the flames of Perdition. Scripture teaches 
that this literal fire plays upon the sensibilities of the 
lost. Dives declared while there that he was 'tormented 
in this flame.' Christ said to His disciples that it were 
better to remove the offending member and enter life 
maimed rather than to retain it and be 'cast into ever- 
lasting fire' (Matt. 18:8). 

"In Mark 9 :43-48 He uses the term 'fire' six times. 
Matthew 13 :40 records that as the tares were gathered 
and burned, so the wicked should finally be gathered 
and 'cast into a furnace of fire.' Twelve times did He 
use the term 'fire' or its equivalent. In spite of all the 
skepticism of the ages. Hell is a place, and a place of 
fire ! 

"St. Paul uses the term, 'flaming fire' (II Thes. 1 :8). 
Peter emphasizes his belief in a Hell of 'fire' (II Pet. 
3:7). St. John also refers to it. The revelator uses 
the terms, 'fire and brimstone' as a place where 'mur- 
derers and whoremongers' go (Eev. 14:10). This re- 
fers especially to your class. You are certain to reach 
the fire-and-brimstone experience of the libertine, to 
suffer inexpressible agony." 


"But hold !" cried Damon, now thoroughly exasper- 
ated at the shade's calm array of proof; "we were told 
that all this you have brought from the Scriptures is 
figurative language ! How can literal fire burn the soul ? 
My body lies beneath yonder mound of earth. How 
can material fire find place in a spiritual world? I 
defy you to harmonize these glaring discrepancies !" 

Some "Glaring Discrepancies" Harmonized. 

"Softly, softly, my Prince of Libertines \" calmly re- 
joined the shade. "Your trend of reasoning and con- 
clusion is woefully weak. A little close application will 
easily 'harmonize' the seeming difficulties. The 'fire,* 
'fire and brimstone,' 'lake of fire,' etc., are not figurative 
expressions at all. But suppose they were? What com- 
fort could that afford you? 

"Your 'figures' used in Scripture are only attempts 
to make clear to a sin-cursed race in earthly language 
that something infinitely worse than the 'figure' could 
convey is pending. 'Figurative' indeed! Why not a 
'figurative' existence, a 'figurative' resurrection, a 'figur- 
ative' Judgment, a 'figurative' Heaven, a 'figurative' 
Hell, a 'figurative' God, a 'figurative' Devil? No, no! 
the proofs and facts are only too painfully corroborative 
of the reality beyond the figure. 

"As to 'how literal fire can burn the soul ?' that is not 


at all impossible. If we were to hold a white hot bar of 
iron to your yonder dead body, would there be a cry of 
pain? Certainly not. But suppose that white hot bar 
had been held to your body before your disembodiment, 
what would have been the result? From this deduc- 
tion it seems there is no pain where the soul is absent. 
What proof is there that the soul could not feel the 
literal fires of Hell when the body is absent? None 

Demon Employment. 

"But suppose that your momentary elusive discovery 
were true, what progress have you made in alleviating 
your suffering? There are other phases of torture wo 
understand full well how to administer to the soul only. 
None of the wicked dead have their bodies as yet. The 
resurrection of the wicked dead has not yet taken place. 
Do not dream for a moment that through all these 
long ages the souls of the wicked dead have slept, as 
some falsely teach. They are as much alive as you are. 
They are with us now in the chambers of torment, which 
torment will only be augmented when they receive their 
bodies at the general resurrection. 

"That they undergo, as you shall, stretches of agony 
beyond description is evident. These lost souls belong 
to our Dictator — Satan. Inactivity is not one of his 
attributes. Since cast from his regal state of glory, his 



hatred toward God and His created beings has increased. 
This hatred we have imbibed, for we were cast out of 
Heaven with him on that day of revolt. As demons, 
our constant employment is to lead souls yet on earth 
in the body astray, and to torture those who have fal- 
len into our power here. 

Hell Strangely Material. 

"Again. You ask what place can material fire have 
in a spiritual world ? The Scriptural inferences through- 
out in dealing with the lost are that Hell is not a spirit- 
ual world, but one very material. We are told that at 
the second advent of Christ the bodies of the just 'shall 
be changed in the twinkling of an eye.' Where is the 
same recorded of the wicked? Nowhere. There is not 
even an intimation that the bodies of the wicked dead 
shall undergo a change. 

"The same body you had while engaged in the sen- 
sual pleasures of life will be yours, unchanged, through- 
out the never-ending aeons of torture. Thus you see that 
all this 'harmonizes' far better than you had thought 
possible. When you were told to 'fear him which is 
able to destroy both soul and body in Hell/ you turned 
to your sensual pleasures with a sneer. Hence, the 
*fire' that is not to be 'figurative;' the body that, for 
want of Scripture proof, is not to be 'changed;' and 


the torment that both your body and soul shall under- 
go and endure 'harmonizes' perfectly with the laws of 
eternal punishment. 

"All your fancifully conceived dreams of a no-Hell, 
a no-fire, and a no-torment 'figure' for naught. The 
frightful depictures of torment described in the Book 
couched in human language, combined with the ever 
shifting modes of torture of the soul, the body, or both 
strikes the disembodied arrival with fearful force. You, 
too, feel the force of what I have given you in this in- 
troductory course of instruction. Your trembling im- 
mortality betrays what your forced composure vainly 
endeavors to conceal." 



While Dual Damon listened to the instructions of 
the shade — instructions he should have heard and heeded 
on earth — his body had been entombed and the mourners 
had departed. The lonely graveyard lent awesomeness 
to the new and weird experience. Other shades now 
drew near to torment him with their presence. That 
he was in the world of demons and lost souls he could 
no longer doubt, but his proud spirit would not yet bend 
the neck to these new and strange powers. 

Accustomed to have things his own way he dreamed 
not that that abused privilege had been taken from him 
when his body sank beneath the surge and foam of 
the raging deep. The proud will that had been law, 
backed by unlimited means, knew no master. Here 
came to the fore forces he had not believed were in 

After the first few hours of dissolution he had vaguely 
hoped that a kind of drifting in the ether of space 
might measure his existence, monotonous as even this 
might grow ; but already he had met with beings possessed 



of astonishing cunning and intelligence. Their knowl- 
edge of God, His Son, redemption, mortal probation, 
the Fall, sin, its penalty, punishment, Heaven, Hell and 
their knowledge of his own past life was cause for 
serious reflection. 

That a master mind controlled these beings he could 
no longer doubt; but to find himself under their con- 
trol was galling. Each attempt to withdraw from their 
presence was met with a demoniac smile, and this called 
up all the rebellion of his soul; but a power to him 
hitherto unknown held him in abeyance. Shifting his 
position, the shade continued: 

Startling Instructions Continued. 
"After the instructions I have given you at length, 
you are better able to comprehend what dread ordeals you 
will be called upon to pass through. Until the resur- 
rection of the wicked dead your punishment will have 
to do more especially with your disembodied spirit. I 
have freely quoted from the Scriptures you ignored in 
the day of opportunity, that you shall again inhabit 
your corruptible body. The pain you felt on earth, 
augmented by the torments here, will be yours through- 
out eternity. However, I still see signs of skepticism 
regarding material torment. Because of this, I will 
now introduce you more directly to some of the tor- 
tures reserved for you. 


"The body you thought you bade an eternal farewell 
as they were about to lay it away is to play an impor- 
tant part in your future punishment. Characters of 
such stern pride as yours merit especial attention on 
our part. 

"Since your skeptical trend extends to even these 
domains, we have arranged for you a sort of pre-resur- 
rection experience to take place a twelve month from 
today in this lonely graveyard. Twenty-four hours 
as men count time shall your disembodied spirit toy 
with your decaying mortality. 

"From this annual visit you will not be released until 
every particle of your crumbling clay shall have turned 
to dust- Since you are destined to toy with your body 
from the day of the resurrection throughout the cycles 
of eternity, a foretaste may convince you of its cer- 
tainty and furnish food for reflection for one of such 
lofty impulses." 

Sarcastic Queries. 

"Most worthy shade," interposed Damon, "why this 
annual visit to yonder mouldering clay? Canst tell me 
whether all this fine-spun theology is contained in the 
Book ? Although so well versed in Scriptural lore, pray 
tell me how camest thou hither? Didst not thou fall 
from Heaven with Satan and his rebellious crew who 
dared aspire to God's throne, and, defeated by the host 


of Heaven, now people the air on demon mission bent? 
Your glib pratings of righteousness, punishment, etc., 
illy becomes one who has fallen from higher heights to 
lower depths than an unfortunate son of Adam. 

"This 'prince of the power of the air,' " continued 
Damon, "with his demon horde, }ou included, though 
now the dominating factor in the control of disem- 
bodied souls, shall also meet a dire and everlasting de- 
feat. The angel shall bind him with the great clanking 
chain and cast him and his demon crew into the Pit 
'prepared for the Devil and his angels.' All hail the 
day wlien the great key shall click in the lock of your 
eternal prison house. Hell ! Your torments shall be no 
less grievous than mine. In view of these delectable 
prospects, canst answer my query, thou dark shade 
of Perdition?" 

Diamond Cut Diamond 

With a frightful shaft of hate glancing from his orb 
of sight, the shade calmly continued : "Your arrogance 
merits a fitting reward, which shall be delivered to you 
in due season. Your sarcastic query shall have an an- 
swer from the Book. 

"Although I fell from yonder heights of bliss long 
ages ago, that is little comfort to you. However, I feel 
highly elated in that I have been delegated to admin- 
ister to your comfort ( !), and to let a little belated rift 


of liglit into your sin-steeped senses. The knowledge 
your question ridicules I give you just as you are 
about to enter upon your career of torment. 

"Perish in Their Own Corruption." 

"Peter, the disciple of your Eedeemer, declared that 
the wicked shall 'perish in their own corruption' (II 
Pet. 2:18). This 'perishing' is to be continuous and 
eternal. Since your slumbering dust shall be resur- 
rected and undergo no change as to its earthly sensibili- 
ties, all the elements of corruption shall be eternally 
present from that time hence. 

"As your attending demon I have sought to lead 
you into Satan's snares. How well I have succeeded 
your presence with us here indicates. All the diabolical 
arts known only to us we employ to lead souls astray. 
Being creatures of probation it is their prerogative to 
reject our impressions; but so well are we acquainted 
with the weaknesses of men that many are brought 
under our yoke and ushered into these doleful domains. 
HaTing attended them throughout their earthly career, 
we continue our attentions here along the lines of tor- 

"Here we are employed inventing new schemes of 
torture. You will find it not so entirely out of the 
range of Scripture as you sought to make us believe 


that the annual visits to your putrifying body shall in- 
augurate a new channel of torment. This pre-resurrec- 
tion experience in the lonely churchyard where your 
spirit shall play upon the broken strand of nerve and 
wasted tissue is certainly an introductory 'perishing in 
your own corruption.' It is only a foretaste of what 
you will experience to the full when you shall have 
received your body at the resurrection of the wicked 

The Farewell Shaft. 

"I have now sufficiently instructed you regarding the 
things you should have done on earth, the Heaven you 
have missed and the Hell you have merited. Your sen- 
sual propensities led you to shun those influences that 
tend towards righteousness and holiness, of which weak- 
ness we took early advantage. That we have succeeded 
in our work will be one of your eternal regrets — 'con- 
science-smart,' if you please. That we shall succeed in 
breaking your haughty pride by means of torture to 
which you are as yet a stranger, you will learn subse- 

"We have forces at our command by the use of which 
we are capable of making a cringing subject of the most 
haughty and rebellious. The sneer you now wear is 
due to your ignorance. The shafts of sarcasm that 
spring so readily from your bow will cease as you are 


forced under the Dictator's iron rules of destructive 
coercion. One solitary brush with our ebon Prince will 
forever crush any lingering desire to disobey his com- 
mands. Prepare for the ordeal. Your torments begin. 
I leave you now to the mysterious forces of our domain. 
AVe meet again." 

A Sudden Shift. 

Instantly he found himself under the brow of an 
overshadowing mountain near the mouth of a large cav- 
ern. It was arranged after the material world but full 
of potent forces of evil ready for instant use at the 
touch of a demon hand. Other shades were gathering 
here. All knew instinctively that a meeting had been 
designed by the chief Dictator. 

Dual Damon moved forward with the band of de- 
mons until he had reached the remotest recesses of the 
cavern. Oppressive silence pervaded the scene. All 
Beemed to know intuitively that somiething extraor- 
dinary was about to take place. 

Skeletons on Cavern Floor. 

Damon took hasty inventory of his surroundings. On 
the cavern floor lay twisted and piled heaps of skele- 
tons in hideous profusion^ relics of a treacherous tragedy 
of bygone years. A sucking draught swept down from 
overhead, hot as from the infernal ovens, that fanned 


the fevered flames of agony in the lost ones gathered 
there to a pitch of unbearable oppression. The place 
was doleful and dark from the presence of woe. 

The Ebon Escritoire and Yellow Parchment. 

A little shriveled, lynx-eyed demon sat before an 
ebon escritoire closely scrutinizing a yellow parchment. 
At his elbow sat a lean, low-browed shade, alert, cun- 
ning, and alive to every turn in the sooty diablery. Sin 
and crime were deeply written on their evil faces. From 
their eyes came a baleful, leaden gleam not pleasant to 

Dual Damon realized for the first time since his dis- 
embodiment how utterly he had been cut off from those 
who had once been his friends. He saw loom up before 
him like a mountain the dread uncertainties of what 
was to be — the certainties of future punishment de- 
signed and inflicted by demons with measureless hate 
and fathomless cunning. 

The Mock Judgment. 

He saw arranged before him a mock Judgment scene. 
The lynx-eyed demon, the lean imp at his side, the de- 
mons everywhere present, the disembodied souls, the 
sulphur-laden air and the Egyptian darkness presaged 




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p-tf crq 

p t=- 3 ■ 


He had thought of the Judgment — that great Day 
of Wrath — since his arrival, but had not dreamed that 
he would be called upon to pass through its ordeal sur- 
rounded by demons and lost souls before the appointed 
time, in mockery. But there was the erected throne 
around which blazed and gleamed a phosphorescent flame 
behind which sat the lynx-eyed shade and ebon scribe. 
There, in mock array, lay the books wherein his life- 
deeds had evidently been recorded. 

While all this was in hollow mockery of that Day 
to come, yet there hung about it all a nameless solem- 
nity and dread that made his soul sick and his senses 
thrum. He awaited the result with mingled feelings 
of anxiety and fear. The entire proceeding was tense 
with interest although mockery was stamped upon every 

Shattered Dreams. 

He had not dreamed that the punishment of a lost 
soul could be so real and multiplied, nor that demons 
were to attend him to lead from one phase of torment 
to another. He did not know, nor had he cared to in- 
form himself while on earth, that the demons were 
Satan's special agents to lead souls astray; and then, 
when once led into the world of lost spirits, to invent 
for them ever new and ever frightful phases of suf- 


Eap ! the dictator's gavel had fallen. Attention was 
riveted upon the presiding demon. A phosphorescent 
gleam shone through the bony sockets of the crumbling 
skeletons on the cavern floor, and the shin bones seemed 
to be stirring to life as the air grew pregnant with 
demon power. Shuddering, the gathered band awaited 
the iron command of the dictator. 

"Bring forth," roared the presiding shade near the 
ebon escritoire, "the record of Dual Damon's deeds upon 
earth !" 

"It is here," said the lean imp at his elbow with a 
sardonic smile, as he crumpled the yellow parchment 
through his claw like fingers. 

Startling Introductions. 
"Damon, come forward !" came the peremptory com- 
mand. Cowering and trembling, he came to the ebon 
rail in obedience to the iron dictum. Continuing, he 
said : "Thou hast but lately left the habitation of men. 
Thou art now a disembodied and lost soul and must 
now assume the duties of such. I will now introduce 
you to my fellow demons and to your disembodied as- 
sociates, after which we will listen to your life's rec- 
ord. Fellow-demons and disembodied spirits, this is 
Dual Damon, one of the most illustrous traducers of 
womankind. Welcome him to our scenic habitations and 
acknowledge his genius." 


At this every demon made low obeisance and each 
doffed his sooty tile in mock deference to his cruel 
cunning, while his associates shrank farther back into 
the recesses of the cavern. Damon felt the irony of the 
dictator's enconium. He saw that the terror of his 
associates boded no good for the future. 

Black Cross Legion of Libertines. 

"Eead/' cried the shriveled dictator, "the life rec- 
ord of our esteemed friend, Dual Damon. He has an 
extraordinary history. Some of his deeds will go down 
as the most atrocious in the unwritten annals of crime. 
In recognition of his meritorious work, the chief Dicta- 
tor may honor him with the Black Cross of the Legion 
of Libertines!" 

Again the half concealed sneer played on the dicta- 
tor's face. All once more made mock obeisance before 
him. He keenly felt the hollow mockery of it all. He 
knew that all this was exploited for his especial dis- 
comfort. Proudly he returned the mock courtesy, and 
hated the hellish crew that was making merry at his 

Eetreat was out of the question. Here forces superior 
to anything he had ever known were at work. The cav- 
ern was so impregnated with this strange power that 
obedience was his only alternative. He must undergo 


the ordeal in spite of smirking dictator and sneering 

Eternity's Phonograph. 

"Duel Damon," began the low-browed shade, as he 
smoothed out the yellow parchment before him he had 
just received from the dictator's hand, "was born amidst 
luxurious surroundings. His childhood days were spent 
in a lovely village where Christian influences held strong 
sway. He was early taught by his doting but foolish 
parents that selfish enjoyment was the prime object of 

"No restraining hand was laid upon his inborn de- 
sires. No words of rebuke were administered when 
caught in sinful pranks. No punishment was meted 
out when wrongs were perpetrated. Gold shielded the 
propensity that early found easy victims. Lust, that 
inborn fire transmitted by parents revelling in sensual- 
ity, was given free rein. Before he had reached the 
age of twenty he was a confirmed libertine. 

"A blushing girl with lovely form and bewitching 
grace caught his lecherous eye. The jewels he wore, the 
genteel appearance and winsome manners of the man 
caught her affections. She yielded to his soft entreaties 
and awoke to face a world that seldom forgives. She 
found that the well-dressed, well-mannered man had 
stolen the most priceless jewel in the hands of a wo- 


man. Her parents died of a broken heart and lie side 
by side in a quiet country churchyard and the lovely 
young woman drifted into the Eed Light District in 
one of earth's largest metropolae. Soon thereafter she 
was dragged from the river and carted to the potter's 
field. Damon is the man who wrought her ruin. He is 
now here to receive the ignoble reward of a libertine." 

Dry Bones in Ezekiel's Vision. 

At this instance gibbering voices issued from the 
rocky crevices overhead, followed by a mocking laugliter. 
The skeletons on the cavern floor seemed to shift their 
position. The shin bones and fleshless anatomy twisted 
and rattled like the dry bones in Ezekiel's vision. Da- 
mon heard the imp's charges roll out through the rocky 
cavern like the reverberating echoes of distant thunder. 
His disembodied associates huddled close in the nooks 
and crannies of the cave, trembling with a nameless 
fear. The demons darted hither and thither with elec- 
trical rapidity, their claw-like fingers playing the soul's 
mad dirge on the wires of woe. 

A numbness settled over his soul so indescribably tor- 
turing that he would fain have fled, but the strange 
power everjrwhere present held him rooted to his place. 
Instead of exulting over his infamous deeds as he would 
once have done on earth, he now loathed himself and 


felt the loathing of each demon and lost associate. The 
sensation, wonderfull;5jf acute, was growing painfully 
unpleasant, when the shade continued: 

"Having left this ruined woman to shift for herself, 
he sought new fields of conquest. He always placed a 
safe distance between himself and his last victim lest 
Bwift justice overtake him. Strolling into a church one 
day, his eye fell upon a lassie just in her early teens. 
Her wondrous beauty was the talk of the town. He re- 
solved to work her destruction, but found the child well 
tutored by Christian parents, hence the work he had 
undertaken was less easy than he had anticipated. But 
his resourceful evil brain at last caught the thread of 
success. Forthwith he set about to work along an un- 
tried channel. 

Hemp and a Telegraph Pole. 

"Assuming the role of a devout religionist, he so 
adroitly ingratiated himsplf in the good graces of her 
parents that suspicion was disarmed. Unused to the 
ways of the world the young girl believed the smooth 
words of the viper, and fell. A telegraph pole and four 
feet of hemp would have given him a short shrift to 
our delectable habitation, but the craven coward had 
left for parts unknown. The embittered populace was 
forced to content itself with scathing invectives for the 


brute that dare trample woman's virtue under his feet 
with such reckless unconcern. 

"The sweet little mother was forgiven, strange as it 
may seem; but she sat a helpless hopeless invalid in her 
wheel chair all the day long. Her friends brought her 
flowers, and the sad sweet smile she gave in return made 
their hearts ache. She still had the respect of the com- 
munity, but the wretch who perpetrated so heinous a 
crime against pure womanhood, stands here cowering 
before us awaiting his reward. His crimes were so dis- 
gracefully low that this place bristles with wrath, and 
the electric forces of punishment crack around our ears 
with startling terror. Dual Damon is the man. Look 
at him and admire him !" 

Egyptian Midnight. 

The cave now grew' dark as Egyptian midnight. 
Short, sharp explosions fell here and there until the 
demons and disembodied souls darted to and fro with 
lightening rapidity in their terror. Then the dark- 
ness gave place to a strange soft glow, but the heat 
grew so intense that it seemed suffocation must surely 
follow. Each shade had every sense atwang and each 
disembodied spirit suffered untold agony just as when 
in the body, intensified a thousand fold. 

The scene shifted. Was that a song? that weird, dis- 



cordant minor wail ? Could such compound agony come 
from throats once human? From every crevice, from 
every nook and corner, from every point of space came 
the voices touched by the pathos of pain and woe. 

The acoustics of the cavern threw the weird wail from 
rock-ribbed side to jutting boulder. The echoes filtered 
eobbingly from niche to comer. The mad medley rose 
and fell on the hot winds that sifted by, died down to 
a low, rasping, gurgling chorus like the death-rattle in 
a man's throat and expired in a thousand whispering, 
whimpering sighs. The wail-chorus suggested the last 
farewell, the sombre shroud, the fluttering crepe, the 
crunching spade, the wheeling bier, the funeral dirge, 
the falling clod, the wreath-strewn mound, the chiseled 
shaft, the ebon shade, the mountain cave, the demon 
horde, the Judgment Day, the final crash — Hark ! 

The Demon Chorus. 

O welcome to the libertine! ascribe him demon praise! 
And give him demon deference throughout our demon days. 
Let demon guards attend him, and let demon honor be , 
Ascribed to him forever with a double demon glee: 

Then heigho, higho, demons all! let swell the demon song! 
Ascribe to him our demon praise ten thousand demon strong. 

Then sing, ye demon choristers! though racked by demon woe; 
O herald forth his demon deeds! your demon praise bestow. 
Full soon our demon genius shall touch his Hell-born pride — 
We'll launch our deadly demon hate in demon measure wide: 


Then heigho, higho, demons all! mad demon medley, roUl 
Strike deeper demon agonies into his ruined soul. 

His days of woe have but begun. Our demon art shall bravo 
The torments of this demon place to crush this lustful knave. 
Deeds of shame on earth he wrought shall bring their demon 

While demons curse their demon fate, while demon cycles roll: 

Then heigho, higho, demons all ! wail out your demon woe. 
Until in demon medley mad we crush this siren low. 

Draw from these demon elements the deadly demon pain, 
Where untold demon agonies for demon age have lain. 
Bring forth from secret demon vaults admixtures demon dire, 
Until this knave shall writhe and burn in everlasting fire: 

Then heigho, higho, demons all! let wail the demon choir I 
Until this knave shall writhe and burn in everlasting fire. 

The song finished, each demon foe turned upon him 
and hissed in his ears the most hellish denunciations 
he had ever heard. Words were uttered not in the voeab- 
bulary of earthly language. Each one stung his senses 
with frightful suffering and he sank to the sooty floor 
of the canny cavern. (From force of habit his disem- 
bodied spirit still obeyed the laws of his mortal mold). 

As he lay writhing under the well merited anathemas 
of his tormentors, he saw each skeleton sit upright, 
the hollow eye-holes glowing with a ghostly gleam. The 
fleshless jaws chattered curses in unison with the demon 
horde about him. The shin-bones seemed to gain an 
upright position and each bony form came rattling to- 


ward him. The air grew green with a strange dull glow 
and heat. His senses thrummed in a wild delirium of 
pain. Again he was brought back from his paroxism 
of agony to face further charges. The shade continued : 

More Revelations. 

"Life was lived at a rapid rate. The voice of the 
Spirit often came to him in the stillness of the night, 
but his childhood training and his utter disregard for 
things divine, had so hardened his heart that he turned 
away from the Voice, and he was left to his follies and 
his sins. Although still a young man, he was hopelessly 
hardened in sin. 

"The art of seducing was studied and reduced to a 
science. N"o woman was safe in his presence. He in- 
vaded the sacred precincts of the marriage life and 
counted his victims there. He supplied brothels through 
mock marriages. He was closely allied with the "Big 
Chief of the great Wliite Slave trade. The Madams 
paid him a few paltry dollars per head for the fine form 
and beautiful face. The 'Christian land' (?) tolerated 
the Eed Light District and allowed the Madams to buy 
his victims. They gave him a few lust-stained sheckles, 
he gave his victims bitter heartaches and everlasting 
regrets and we will give him the reward his genius 


"When the ship went down he had reached the zenith 
of his career. Even on that fatal sea voyage he had 
victims in his toils who little suspected his utter de- 
pravity. God had decreed that his life on earth must 
close. His efforts to reach the shore on some broken 
pieces of wreckage He permitted us to paraiize. We 
have succeeded in our work. 

"As he went down in the churning sea he was so 
hardened in sin that, although his wicked life flashed 
before him in panoramic form, he cursed as he died. 
Dictator, here is the man we have so closely and suc- 
cessfully attended. Usher him into the deeper life of 
torment. Let him feel the Hand of Justice on his proud 
immortality. His victims were many, his sins are more 
and not repented of, and his proud neck has never bowed 
to the yoke of obedience." 



The cavern now resounded with deafening yells. The 
demons, although hideous before, grew more hideous 
still. With their long lean fingers convulsively clutch- 
ing the sizzling furnishings of their trade the lynx- 
eyed dictator and the shifty shade stood erect and 
spat sulphurous maledictions on Damon's cowering pres- 
ence. The slow and rising fires of Perdition sang 
through the empty corridors of his craven immortality 
and he reeled in sheer agony from jut to jut around 
the rocky sides of the cave in a mad but fruitless en- 
deavor to escape. The low chuckle of fiends and the 
sharp cry of pain from his lost associates merged with 
the taunt and jeer of his tormentors until it seemed he 
could bear no more. 

Suddenly a low long sickening roll rumbled in from 
the distance and the place shook in the throes of a 
mighty earthquake. The hot protruding boulders cracked 
from their places and crumbled in fiery embers at his 
feet. From the holes and fissures of the rocking walls 
crawled stinking dragons with flaming mane and smok- 



ing nostrils. Through the opening top of the dissolv- 
ing den fell long scaly serpents thai wound their crunch- 
ing folds around him and buried their hooked fangs in 
his vitals again and again. As the effect of their paison- 
ess bite surged and thrummed through his being, he was 
horrified to find that it was the fevered lust-tides of 
earth he had carried about in his well-dressed body, mul- 
tiplied to a thousand fold intensity. 

Once more Satan shifted the smoking slides. Out of 
the crashing ruins of the cave rose a magnificent city. 
It whirled in space until he say lying before him a 
typical Eed Light section, with its hideous traffic in 
full swing. Painted and withered old hags, dressed in 
the gauzy garb of desire, winked and leered lecherously 
from their red cribs of lust and tapped amorously on 
their blazing window pane. From stall to stall the lost 
throngs swarmed over the cobblestones of woe and shim- 
mering shards of Perdition, only to find that the hot 
fires of passion could not be assuaged. 

Under Swinging Brimstone TorchlightB. 

In mock imitation of the earthly farce a uniformed 
police demon tramped his flaming beat under swinging 
brimstone torchlights. Conspicuously displayed on his 
shrunken anatomy blazed the insignia of authority and 
from his gleaming girdle swung loosely the baton of his 



power. Wilh one cocked eye on the low rows of flaming 
shame-stalls and the other on his superior officers manip- 
ulating the wires of The System from a smoking emi- 
nence he struck about as much terror to the denizens of 
Perdition as a blue-coat does to the resort keepers on 
the Chicago Levee. 

Damon trolled on with the maddened throng, think- 
ing: And this is to endure for eternity! Again the 
scene shifted. They were back in the hated cave. Then 
came a momentary pause in the mad pandemonium. 
What would come next from the kaleidoscope of pain? 
A deathlike silence fell on the suffering crew. Damon 
intuitively felt that something strange and startling was 
about to occur. Slowly the floor of the cave slid back 
and up through the open space from somewhere came 
the victims of his earthly life. His soul grew sick. He 
reeled in the throes of a suffering so intense that it 
brought out a low chuckle of satisfaction from the dic- 
tator and his ebon shade. They had played well their 
introductory act. From the spectator's pain and tense 
agony they reaped their ignoble reward. 

The Fangs of Remorse. 

"Not this! 0, not this!" cried the craven wretch; 
"anything but this!" But they were there to augment 
his suffering. They cursed him and blamed him for their 


lost estate; and then their curses died down to doleful 
lamentations. It was more than he could bear. He 
plunged headlong into the opening at his feet, but the 
hand of fate instantly brought him back to face his 
tormentors and his woe. 

The clogs of mortality had been lifted from his mem- 
ory. Through its long halls came trooping each in- 
famous deed. Each deed passed before him in all its 
shifting crime-lights. His accusers were still there. 
Now they assumed their chaste loveliness as when first 
he had met them, and then they changed to wasted lives 
and blasted hopes. 

Then he saw their living death in the brothel; the 
leap over the bridge at midnight; the limp form with 
the water-soaked hair taken from the river ; the morgue ; 
and the nameless wind-swept grave in the potter's field. 
As his victims stood before him hurling curses at his 
cowering immortality, he reeled and rocked in his woe 
and pain, and wailed like a sick infant. At last the 
haughty libertine was conquered and groveled at the 
feet of his tormentors a crawling cringing slave. 

His warped and blunted conception of the suffer- 
ing he had wrought had been quickened to marvelous 
acuteness and activity. The Hell he had derided had 
indeed begun. If his disembodied spirit suffered thus 
now, what frightful sufferings must be his when soul 


and body are again united and the final Hell into which 
the Devil and his angels shall be cast is experienced? 
Thus he pondered as the shifting pains of torment 
surged through his immortal being. 

As he looked out over the shimmering shards of Per- 
dition, now fully conscious that here lay inexhaustible 
resources of torture, the last vestige of rebellion van- 
ished, and he gave himself up to a stolid indifference. 
But even this grim sense of determination he was not 
permitted to pursue. The shifts to new and undreamed 
of tortures were so rapid or so marked that each resolve 
died on the threshold of each new torment. The uplook 
he had left behind in a world of hope, the outlook was 
hidden by walls of smoke and flame and the hot floors 
of Perdition opened only to thrust forth some new tor- 
ture or to hurl him into the embrace of other hideous 
and soul-rack experiences. 

Toying with Death. 

A twelvemonth had passed by. Dual Damon had 
tasted much of the inglorious rewards of a libertine. 
From one strange experience he had quickly passed to 
another. The scenes of torment had constantly shifted. 
His sufferings increased with each new experience. 

Since the demon-fiat had passed that his spirit must 
annually visit and reinhabit his mouldering clay for 


twenty-four hours until it had been completely absorbed 
by the elements, he betook himself to the lonely church- 
yard where reposed his crumbling mortality. For once 
he found no demon there to share his suffering, of what- 
ever nature it might be. 

In solitary plight he neared his grave and soon found 
himself in the narrow confines of the coffin with all the 
ghastly remains in full challenge to his spiritual senses. 
All the loathsome animal disintegration was in full 
progress. As he prepared for the strange new ordeal 
he felt a tingling torture different than any through 
which he had yet passed. 

The Agonies of Dying. 

The soul, the living principle, set about to reanimate 
the putrescent clay. He was once more undergoing the 
agonies of dying. The nerves had grown torpid and 
the blood long since stagnant and putrid ; but now, since 
the immortal part had re-entered the earthly form, pain 
again thrummed along the broken strand of sense, or 
so it seemed. Every effort to reanimate the lifeless body 
caused Damon untold agony. 

As the life giving energy sought for avenues of ex- 
ercise where strands of nerve were broken, or parts de- 
cayed, a fearful burning sensation doubly increased the 
pain there. He now felt the need of air and attempted 


to gasp; but all in vain. He suffered the pangs of 
suffocation, of strangulation all over again as keenly, 
and more so, as when he sank beneath the waves from 
the vessel's side. 

The brain had decayed; but since he had taken con- 
sciousness with him he 'knew and felt more keenly than 
when in the body a year ago. The whistle of distress 
blown by the sinking vessel ; the shrieks of the helpless 
passengers; the last deafening crash as a mountainous 
wave dealt the vessel its death stroke; the gurgling wa- 
ter in his ears and mouth; the pain and pounding in 
his head and all the frightful sensations of that awful 
night one year ago returned with startling reality and 
stinging force. The past was welded to the present. 
The extremes of torture of the then and the now broke 
over his lost spirit again and again until he almost lost 
consciousness in the pain of it all. 

Memory's Contribution. 

But awakened memory continued her contribution to 
the grim fiasco. As he lay in his decaying body in 
which he had moved while upon earth for twenty-four 
hours again undergoing death by strangulation, it 
seemed like an eternity of time. Sometimes it seemed 
the shrunken hand twitched under his effort, the limb 
moved, the eye saw, the breast heaved and the heart 


throbbed ; but no ! it was only his overwrought anxiety 
to make it so that made it seem so. 

The hand still lay upon the sinking breast, clawlike 
now, just as when they had lowered him into the six 
foot excavation. The limb still lay rigidly outstretched, 
the eye receded even farther into its hollow socket, the 
breast sank lower and lower as the frame work began! 
to give way under the fleshly mold. The heart had long 
since degenerated into gases and wasted tissues. the 
pain of it! how could he bear it? 

Again he tried. The immortal powers still his own 
were exerted to their utmost, but the silent form moved 
not, saw not, breathed not, spake not. The broken 
strand of nerve carried no feeling, the closed eye saw 
neither darkness nor light, the empty breast could not 
heave since the throbbing heart had ceased its action. 
The house of clay had fallen before the blast of death. 
Though efforts never so painfully exercised by the im- 
mortal part, struggling, gasping and strangling within 
its fallen walls, the decaying body must lie in its place 
of repose until the final resurrection. 

Drifting Toward No-Hellism. 

The world and a nominal church are drifting toward 
no-Hellism. The Bible declares there is a literal brim- 
stone Hell. A thousand phases of suffering might be 


touched and yet there would be others. Whichever new 
phase we touch does not exaggerate, but simply brings 
us to a better conception of eternal punishment. Skep- 
tics may sneer and infidels may ridicule, but the hour 
is surely coming when torments we cannot hope to de- 
scribe, will sweep over their poor lost soul in frightful 

We must not forget that ages have given demons 
multiplied means of torment. Could we depict some 
of the horrors of Demon Land it would make the brain 
reel and the blood run cold. The only escape from the 
dread land of night is in Jesus Christ. He will for- 
give every sin and blot out all iniquity. Heaven is 
sweet. Wlio can afford to lose it? Hell is awful. Who 
would not escape it? 

The Sweet Voice of Mercy. 

My brother, my sister ; are you still in sin ? Stop ! 
God's Spirit has all these years been pleading with 
you. Obey that still small Voice lest you drive Him 
away to return to you no more for ever. You have 
sought for rest and pleasure and have not found it. 
You have had trouble and sorrow and heartache enough. 
It is time that you cast your burden at His feet and 
find rest to your soul. Come to Him before another 
sun shall set. Kneel Just where you are and give Him 


your heart. He loves you so tenderly, how can you turn 
Him away? Your sins may be many, your crimes may 
be deep ; but the precious blood of Jesus can wash them 
all away. He can change your heart. He will put a 
new song in your mouth, even praises. Let Him save 
you now. 

Salvation Outlined. 

You ask. What shall I do to be saved ? Quit sinning. 
Eepent, confess to God and believe "He is faithful and 
just to forgive us our sins" (I John 1 :9). As faith lays 
hold the witness comes by which you know you are saved. 

You have now met and experienced first conditions in 
the dual work of grace; viz., regeneration. You now 
hold title to Heaven, but lack fitness, which to obtain 
you "present your body a living sacrifice . . . that 
you may prove what is that good and acceptable will of 
God" (Rom. 12:1, 2). You ask, what is the will of 
God ? "This is the will of God, even your sanctification" 
(I Thes. 4:3). Christ died to sanctify the Church; 
i. e., converted people (Eph. 5 : 25, 26). 

To be sanctified wholly (the second condition in the 
dual work of grace — the step to the required fitness for 
Heaven), you do not implore pardon, but cleansing. 
The word "sanctify" has a double significance : you "set 
yourself apart," God makes you holy. "The altar 
(Christ) sanctifies the gift (you)." Pardon dealt with 


actual sins; cleansing deals with inherited sin. You 
are not held to account for its (sin) existence before 
discovery, but for its continued existence after discov- 
ery. You detect it by peculiar manifestations, such as 
"hasty temper/' "nervousness," "blues," "spells," "up- 
risings," love of place and applause, etc. You can not 
successfully "suppress" it, but the Holy Spirit can "eo:- 
■press" it — expel, remove, kill. "Put off the old man 
with his deeds" (Col. 3:9). 

If I am made «nholy by yielding to Satan, is it unrea.- 
sonable to conclude (aside from multiplied Bible proofs) 
that I am made holy by yielding to God ? Verily, no ! 
through the efficacy of the shed blood of the Son of God 
we have not only a free, but also a full salvation 

Which, then, shall it be? the whoremonger's Hell or 
the saint's Heaven? My erring brother, my sister; no 
matter how far you have wandered away from God nor 
how closely the chains of sin have been wound around 
you, Jesus can save you now. "For the Lion of Judah 
can break every chain !" 


"Sitting in my office one afternoon I listened, my 
blood almost freezing, to the following story vouched 

for by Mr. C , an immigration inspector and 

brother of a well known Chicago reform worker, and 
here it is as he told it to me : 

A Horrible Thing. 

" ^One evening some time ago I was looking up a 
case down in the Twenty-second Street Red Light Dis- 
trict, and visited and inspected, looking for immigrant 
girls held illegally in a certain house of the lower class 
in that neighborhood of prostitution. While in the 
house I noticed a young woman lying very ill (in the 
last stages of pneumonia, if I remember exactly) and 
in a semi-conscious condition, and to my horror upon 
inquiry I learned that in the rush hours of business 
this helpless, pain-racked young woman was open to 
all comers, holding an accredited room check.' " 



The above is taken from Chicago's Soul Market, a 
booklet written by Mrs. Jean Turner-Zimmerman, M. D. 
It would seem from this awful condition that rescue 
work is urgently needed. The awful pressure of vice 
tolerance seems to drive us to our wit's end. We have 
police and judges who hob nob with the Hag in Scarlet, 
hence our urgent cry for a united Church front to wipe 
out the curse. 

Our eye just now falls on a startling thing printed 
in Our Girls, official organ of Beulah Home: 

The Horrors Grow. 

"A girl was carried from a house of sin to one of 
Chicago's hospitals. Sin's ravages had eaten health 

away. The doctors did what they could. 'M / they 

said to her, 'if you will live right from now on you 
may live two more years. Old conditions will kill you 
in a few weeks.' 

"Poor child ! She left the hospital without Christ 
and, of course, 'old conditions' overtook her. She re- 
turned in the ambulance ready to die. While she lay 
dying there came to her a woman under tlie guise of a 
'friend' and this woman paid the dying girl a dollar 
to furnish names and addresses of girls who might he 
captured for immoral purposes." 

The Editor pertinently asks, "Is there any need of 


Beulah Home's open door?" We emphasize the cry. 
Is there any need of rescue work and Eescue Homes? 
O, Church of our crucified Eedeemer, what will it take 
to rouse you from your unnatural slumber? Can you 
not see that our daughters and sons are ground to death 
beneath the spiked heel of Lust? For God's sake, 
arouse ! 

A Modern Magdelen. 

We follow our short incidents quoted to incite to 
action by an article culled from the Life Line Magor- 
zine, written by Eichard Watson. Thank God, here and 
there one is rescued from the jaws of the Lust monster. 
May God's people soon swing into line for an aggressive 
march against this evil: 

"In one of the large penitentiaries of the West a 
man lay dying in the prison hospital. Beside him stood 
the prison physician and the attending nurse, himself 
a prisoner. It was midnight, his life was slowly ebbing 
out. Disease had wasted his frame until he was mere 
skin and bone. The physician had left his bedside for 
a moment to attend to the wants of some of the other 
patienta. He moved restlessly in his sleep and awoke 
with a start. Grasping the hand of the prison nurse, 
who stood by his bedside, he said, in a dying whisper, 
*Dick, old man, will you do me a favor?' 

"The nurse knelt down beside his bed and taking his 


hand gently in his own, said, 'Yes, Walter, I will do 

anything that I can. What is it?' The dying man tremb- 

blingly put his hand under his pillow and brought forth 

an old crumpled letter. 'Take that to its destination, 

Dick, old pal, and may God bless you. Tell her to 

lead a better life for my sake. Tell her that I thought 

of her through all the years. Tell her that my last dying 

prayer was that some day we may meet again. Dick, 

it's growing dark, take my hand; good by, good by, old 

pal.' And with a long drawn sigh he passed into the 

great eternity. 

^ ^ ^ ^ 

"A short while after this I was released from prison, 
and with the pleadings of the dying man still ringing 
in my ears and with his message, I determined to come 
on to Boston and deliver it. I came on and after stay- 
ing around Boston for a few days, looked up the ad- 
dress. I found the house on one of the side streets 
running off Washington street. To locate the number 
was an easy matter. 

A Wondrously Handsome Woman. 

"So one bright morning in the month of September, 
I went to the house, rang the bell. A lady came to the 
door. I told her that I had a message for a certain 
woman in the house from a veiy dear friend, who had 


recently died in the West, and she said, '0, yes, won't 
you pleaee step in ?' I stepped across the threshold and 
was ushered into a very large parlor, luxuriously fur- 
nished, and from a casual survey of my surroundings, 
I knew at once that I was in a house of prostitution. 

"In a very few moments after I had entered, I heard 
the swish of a woman's silken dress as she came through 
the door. How can I describe her? Standing there in 
the frame of the door, looking at me in a half hes- 
itating way, was a wondrously handsome woman. I 
handed her the letter. She read it, and then, bursting 
into tears, she told me between her sobs, the whole story. 
How she had been waiting patiently until his term 
should expire, and then they were going away to some 
'»ther city to try and live it down. 

"She told me she was sick and tired of the life she 
was living, and now that he was dead and his last dying 
plea was that she might lead a better life, she was going 
to try. She told me she had come in touch with a 
young minister, in a church not far away, and he had 
given her some good advice. He had told her that 
through the greatness of God's mercy all things were 

Strips Diamonds from Ears and Fingers. 

"I called on her a few days afterwards and found 
she had packed all her things together and was ready 


for her journey. She told me she did not want to take 
anything with her that had any part in that old life. 
We went down to a pawn shop and there she stripped the 
diamonds from her ears and from her fingers. She 
raised about $600 on them. From there we went down 
to the railroad depot, and I put her on the train for 
New York City, bade her, as I thought, a last good by, 
and then went away wondering how it would all end. 

"Some five or six years afterward I was in New York 
City, and one day, while strolling down Sixth avenue, 
some one touched me on the shoulder. Now in those 
days, when anyone touched me on the shoulder, it meant 
something to me. So, turning around very cautiously, 
to my utmost surprise, I came face to face with the 
woman whom I had left at the Old Colony depot in 
Boston six years before. 

"But she had changed, changed wonderfully, since I 
last saw her and she did not seem to be the same wo- 
man. I was very glad to meet her. We shook hands 
heartily and we walked and talked until we got over 
on the West Side. At last we stopped in front of a 
beautiful cottage, which she told me was her home. We 
went inside, and, as I entered, I noticed the walls were 
hung with a number of small religious mottoes. By 
and by her husband came in and I was introduced to 
him, a fine, manly looking fellow. 


"Nellie, How Did It Happen?" 

"You can imagine how all this seemed to me. I was 
dazed. I was invited to dinner and after we had all 
dined together, bidding me good by, he took his depart- 
ure. Turning to her in amazement, as I heard his de- 
parting footsteps, I said, 'Nellie, how in the world did 
you ever do it?' and then she told me the story. After 
being in New York City quite a while, when her funds 
were nearly exhausted, she got a position as a house- 
keeper. But it seemed so hard. Oftentimes, she told 
me, she went up to her room, put on her clothes with 
a determination to go back to the old life. But some- 
how this never happened. God was taking care of 

"She met her husband at a prayer meeting, in one of 
the Methodist churches. They became attached to each 
other and finally he asked her to marry him. That was 
the hard part of it all. She knew her past, knew what 
she had been. What would he say to it all ? Could he 
continue to love a woman like her? So one day, taking 
courage, she told him all, told him how hard she had 
striven to atone for the past, and if he was willing to 
take her for a wife, that in the years to come, she would 
be to him a good, true, faithful woman, for she loved 
him dearly. Gently he took her hand, while the tears 
streamed down his face, and bending over her kissed her 
on the forehead, saying, 'Nellie, I believe you are a 


good true woman now. I believe you always have been. 
You made a mistake, it is all over now. God has for- 
given you, neither do I condemn thee.' 

Light at Even Time. 

"So I leave her, the woman who gained the victory, 
the woman whom God watched over through it all, 
the woman who for years has been doing all she can 
for her fallen sisters, who has given money, time and 
herself. When I last saw her, some years ago, her hair 
was slightly touched with grey, her once handsome 
face was lined with thoughts of care. I remember the 
parting words, 'Good by, Richard ! thank God, you have 
given up the old life.' 

"As I walked down the pathway which led out to the 
street, I realized that the last dying prayer of "Walter 
Fitzgerald, who died in a Western prison, had been 
answered in the resurrected life of the woman on the 
West Side. Truly this was one of God's great miracles, 
a modern Magdalen. 'Neither do I condemn thee, go 
and sin no more.' " 

We close with an article from the pen of Mr. H. 0. 
Eichards, Superintendent of Beulah Home and Ma- 
ternity Hospital, Chicago. If you are questioning 
whether it will pay to go after these lost ones in sin 
let him answer your query in his article in the October, 
1909, Our Girls Magazine, entitled : 


"Does It Pay?" 

Perhaps one of the most frequent and most signifi- 
cant questions asked concerning the special work done 
by Beulah Home in giving aid to unfortunate women 
and girls, is — does it pay? 

Let us go back to Eden and the fall, to the promise 
of the Eedeemer, that Lamb slain from the foundation 
of the world, to the centuries preceding Calvary, cen- 
turies of God's patience and man's failure, back to Cal- 
vary and its suffering, and considering the price of 
man's redemption and his miserable foolishness and 
wicked scorn, look up into the Father's face and ask 
Him the question, "God ! Does salvation pay ?" 

Sometimes, when the work of Beulah Home is pre- 
sented to business men, with hands thrust deep into 
pockets where jingle the tokens of their success, they 
say, "Well, yes, — but does it pay?" 

After fourteen years of daily contact with this special 
Christian work, Mr. 0. H. Richards and his wife say 
that at least eighty-five per cent of the women passing 
through the doors of Beulah Home continue to live 
clean lives. Many do more than that ; women have gone 
out from these doors into the foreign field, into the 
home mission field, into the ranks of nurses, into posi- 
tive, active Christian work. 

**yes, but — " says someone, who with a head for 


values estimates the money spent in fourteen years, the 
life energy poured out, possibly the wrecked physical 
well-being of workers, "After all, what do you see? 
Where are all these girls ? And what of the many hun- 
dreds of babes born at such cost to the home and its 
helpers? Does it pay?" 

Dollars vs Souls. 

If there is one thing that God teaches us in His Word 
it is that we cannot measure and weigh spiritual things 
with temporal rules and scales. We cannot figure in 
souls. And if there is another plain thing taught it is 
that "the things which are not seen are eternal," Who 
shall dare estimate in dollars or in days and years of 
endeavor the value of a soul ? For mark you, our unfor- 
tunate girls are just souls, needing grace no less and no 
more than a bishop, a missionary, a banker, a professor 
of theology, a clean-lived moralist, a sweet mother with 
her "legitimate" baby in her arms. Ju^t souls, sinners 
in Grod's sight until redeemed ; saints in God's sight when 

Does it pay? We can only fall back on God's esti- 
mates. He teaches us the lesson of ninety and nine 
sheep and the value of the one silly sheep astray. He 
tells up plainly that "few there be" that find the nar- 
row way. He cries out in sorrow, "Shall I find faith 
on the earth when I return?" 


Does it pay? When does the "pay" come in? Who 
receives it? What is it? How gibly the average audi- 
ence shouts out in song, "Will there be any stars in my 
crown?" Stars are souls. How can we know what a 
redeemed soul may have to do in and for the universe 
throughout eternity's uncounted ages? And how can 
we Jcnow what an unredeemed soul may count for in eter- 
nity's unmeasured economy? A banker, jingling his 
bunch of Yale keys, with his check book before him, is 
saying, "Well, but Mr. Eichards, does it pay?" when 
a telegram is received. He reads, gasps, and shudders. 
"I must go," he exclaims, "my child is dying !" "Where ?" 
"A thousand miles from here !" A directors' meeting 
in half an hour, a real estate deal representing thou- 
sands of dollars, vitally important letters to be writ- 
ten — all these must take their chances : a life beloved is 
in danger. The father has influence. A train is char- 
tered. Lines are opened. Men hired. Across the coun- 
try the train speeds. No matter if the engine, over- 
wrought, can never make another trip ; no matter if men 
drop at their posts ; no matter what the cost : a life be- 
loved is in danger! * * * The journey is accom- 
plished. In father's arms the precious life takes cour- 
age, fever abates, health sets in, the child is restored. 
Did it pay? 



Thank God, It Pays! 

"Well, but, these ^rls — the case is different." It is 
not. Every soul on earth is more precious to the Heav- 
enly Father than any sweet child is to any earthly father. 
An abandoned girl? A ruined girl? A fallen woman? 
God help us ! God abandons no one. Men and devils 
abandon. God and His cliildren love. Ruined? Sin 
ruins and a lie is as much ruination in God's sight as 
any other sin, because all outward sin is merely the out- 
come of the heart unsaved. Fallen ? Every soul outside 
of the mercy of Christ is fallen. 

Does it pay? Christ thought it paid to die for Judas 
and John, for Mary His Mother and for Mary Magda- 
lene. Because Judas went to his own place shall the 
Magdalene therefore have no chance? 

Does it pay? In the light of the white throne at the 
last day if but ten women stand praising God, for Christ 
preached in and through Beulah Home, it will have 
paid enough to set the glorified ones on fire of joy and 
to call out the "inasmuch" and the "well done" of the 
Savior — ^the Brother of every woman on earth. 



"In Eama was there a voice heard, lamentation, and 
weeping, and great mourning, Eachel weeping for her 
children, and would not be comforted, because they are 
not" (Matt. 2:18). A mother's cry is couched in the 
Scripture phrase before us, most strikingly applicable to- 
day. Somewhere in some quiet quaint old village 
nestling deep in the sheltering shadows and seclusion of 
oaks and elms or perhaps in some isolated country farm- 
stead sits a poor mother sobbing for the absent daugh- 
ter. If only she could have followed her darling to her 
grave here where the shadows of the dear old oaks and 
elm trees lie her grief might not have been so pungent. 
She might at least have gently laid the lily wreath — 
emblem of purity — on her bier ; but now, ah now ! some- 
where, somewhere, where lies her slumbering mortality, 
the autumnal rain drops its drizzling mist of tears on 
her untended grave and the wintry blasts shriek the Out- 
cast's Funeral Dirge. 

The world can not understand a mother's grief. 
Man, the strong, the noble, the brave, feels a poignant 



grief pulling at his heartstrings in the loss of a loved 
one; but who can find words in human vocabulary that 
describe the grief of a mother? We catch the signifi- 
cance of this in the following Scripture utterances : 
"Like a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pHieth 
them that fear him" (Ps. 103:13). "As one whom his 
mother comforteth, so will I comfort you " (Is. 66 :13) . 
The father pities; the mother comforts. How often 
have we watched the little one when suddenly overtaken 
by some accident run at once to mother. What secret 
thing she did to the sobbing child or what magic word 
she whispered in its ear or what hypnotic cure she ma- 
nipulated in her peculiar embrace we have never been 
able to discover. Mother has held the secret well. God 
bless wife and mother! 

A Chain of Queries. 

But we wish to dwell at some length on th& missing 
ones, lured away from a father's pity and a mother's 
comfort. We show on page 77 of this book two barred 
dens photographed while this book was already in print. 
These dens are found in the Chicago Levee. It is pos- 
sible the public will be surprised to know that the bars 
are still up, in at least two instances, when the law said 
they must come down ? All we can say is this : Go with 
your queries why they have not come down to the of- 


ficials who still permit them to bar the exit of the White 
Slave who is sighing for the free hills and clover fi^ds 
of her native home and the comfort of a mother's em- 
brace ! It is possible that some missing one is languish- 
ing here. Will the city unbar the System's White Slave 
Hells and let the slaves go free? 

The missing ones are found on the Levees, the West 
Sides and the Strands of our cities. Vice is "segregated 
in order to protect our wives and daughters," say the 
wise ones. This centuries old falsehood is mouthed by 
the prating hireling in long frock coat and white cravat. 
It is "yead" by his itching eared crowd of worldlings and 
tossed down from generation to generation — the libelous 
thing — until even some of the holiness "professors" be- 
lieve it. We ask. Is it not somebody's wife or some- 
body's daughter down there in the resorts of sin? Are 
they not worthy or at least in need of protection ? What 
kind of truckling to the Devil is all this twaddle? Is 
your daughter and mine worth more than our neigh- 
bor's? Where do we find the two standards voiced in 
the Book? But why wearily prolong the queries? We 
dismiss the culprits from the bar and warn them to pre- 
pare for that other Day. There the world and the nomi- 
nal church will emerge from the delusive mists of double 
standards and strike prow on the frowning rocks of 


The Doctor's Eye-Opener. 

A young man who had been "indiscreet" came to a 
physician for treatment. After the diagnosis of his mal- 
ady the learned M.D. said, twirling his watch-fob : "You 
are in a very serious condition and 1 would therefore 
advise you to seek the companionship of a mistress." 
The young man looked at him inquiringly as though not 
quite sure of his ground, and then cautiously asked: 
"Is it not a fact, doctor, that the "mistress" you advise 
can only be found among those who in many instances 
are diseased, which would only tend to aggravate the 
malady? But recently two boys, fourteen and sixteen 
yeaBS of age, were advised by a Chicago judge of the 
municipal court when a Madam had been arrested for 
allowing minors in her resort as follows: 'Boys, do 
you not know that nine women out of ten in the places 
you frequented are diseased? that if you go there you 
may be ruined for life ?' Now then, doctor, considering 
the advice of the judge sound, would it not be advisable 
for me to form the acquaintance of some respectable and 
virtuous young lady ? I have thought you might be able 
to assist me to the fulfilment of your advice by giving me 
an introduction to your daughter ?" 

"Oh no! not my daughter!" excitably exclaimed the 
man of pills and powders. 

"And why not your daughter?" sarcastically querried 


the patient, "It would be some one's daughter. Is not 
the other daughter as precious to her father as yours is 
to you ? What right have you to advise me as you do ?" 

The man of medicine hung his head in deep reflection 
for a moment and then frankly thanked the young man 
for the eye-opener. Indeed ! let it be an eye-opener to 
others. The two-standard view is from the Pit. To 
the Pit let it return. 

Under the work of The White Cross Missionaries is 
brought to light the sad side of the under world life. 
Cases that make the blood run chill with horror come to 
the fore almost weekly. It is absolutely impossible to 
put on paper what transpires in these hell-holes of sin. 
The public can not know to what depth of cunning and 
wickedness the System will go nor how far down the 
rungs of the ladder of shame the poor White Slave is 
forced by the hand of the Traffic. In this chapter we re- 
fer to a few sad stories of wasted lives and blasted hopes. 
They differ only in sad detail. The end is always dis- 
grace and shame — ^unless grace interpose. Thank God, 
some are rescued from the White Slave Hells ! Our God 
is able. 

"Can You Find My Daughter?" 

One bright morning in June Mr. Clarkson had just 
finished his breakfast when the door bell rang. Mrs. 
Clarkson answered the ring and admitted some one who 


inquired whether the Superintendent was at home. 
Upon entering the parlor he met an old friend who had 
brought with him a lady whom Mr. Clarkson had never 
Been. He was at once attracted by her sad face. From 
long experience he knew that behind that sad exterior 
lay fathoms of grief. She appeared so weary and worn. 
Her eyes were red and swollen from long periods of 

Beside her near the divan upon which she sat was a 
large flat package carefully wrapped and leaning against 
the wall. After his friend had introduced him he said 
that he had met the lady and learned her sad story while 
traveling for the firm with which he was connected. It 
was the same old story he had heard over and over again 
— the story of a lost girl. The mother-love shone clear 
and beautiful in tear-dimmed eye and thrilled in the 
tremulous query of hope as she said, "Can you find my 
daughter ?" 

She expressed the fear that the girl had been trapped 
into a life of White Slavery. If her lost daughter could 
be found, she was sure the White Cross Missionaries 
could find her. And so she lamented and cried as she sat 
there in her sorrow. 0, the missing ones for which the 
Eachel's weep to-day ! How many there are. When will 
the people awake to this dangerous Traffic in their 
midst? When will the System receive its death-blow? 


Not Tintil the Church and One Common Humanity says 
it must go. 

The Life Size Photograph. 

Taking up the package leaning against the wall she 
undid the wrappings with eager, trembling fingers. The 
paper and string fell to the floor as she showed Mr. 
Clarkson the life size photograph of her daughter. Then 
she sat down and told her story. 

"A number of years ago my husband died and left me 
a widow, with an only daughter to support. With prac- 
tically no financial resources I was compelled to take in 
roomers in order that I might be able to meet the rent, 
keep the home together, etc. 

"One day a young man came and rented a room. He 
said he was the son of a wealthy official in a western 
state; that he wanted to room awhile where he could 
have quiet and rest. He had not been long in the house 
when he began to pay marked attention to my daughter. 
He took her out at night and on several occasions re- 
turned quite late. I soon discovered that she had been 
drinking and was under the influence of liquor. I could 
no longer endure the pain and told him that he was not 
doing right and must therefore leave my house. 

"He listened to what I had to say, and then answered : 
'I will go, but I shall take your daughter with me !' I 
could scarcely believe it possible that she was so com- 


pletely under his hypnotic spell but was convinced when 
together they left the house. From the time she left 
home until this day I have not known where she is. I 
fear she is somewhere in the Eed Light District ! Oh, 
what shall I do?" 

Found Dead in the River. 

Here is another sad story, the settings in detail some- 
what dissimilar from a hundred others, where the White 
Slave Viper had lured to her ruin another trusting 
victim. The tremulous agony in the sad recital play on 
the cords of sympathy like the surge of the tide. The 
heart burns within as we realize our helplessness. Shall 
we redouble our efforts to save the deceived and missing 
daughters of weeping and heart-broken mothers? Oh, 
the shame of it all ! When will the Church awake to her 
duty and privilege here? When will the Church "go 
into the highways and hedges and compel them to come 
in ?" When she marches in a body into the White Slave 
quarters of our segregated vice Districts and demands 
the abolition of the nefarious Traffic in Girls, then will 
our missing daughters be given back to the arms of their 
mothers ! 

Through some source the mother had learned that 
her daughter's seducer was a habitue of the Eed Liglit 
District. Ho had lived there with another girl until 
she had contracled a terrible disease and vras forcel 1 ; 


go to a hospital. Then he had sallied forth from his 
abode of death in search of other victims. Under the 
circumstances related, her daughter fell an easy prey 
to his blandishments. 

The girl of our story had a cousin who had been miss- 
ing from home for a period of four months. Then she 
had been found in the Chicago river, perhaps murdered 
by the hand of her traducer, or by the Vice Monster 
whose slimy tentacles sweep over the sin-sodden city. 

Prom the dance hall; from the beer garden; from 
the saloon ; from the ball room ; from the nickel theatre ; 
from the respectable (?) theatre; from the ice cream 
parlor; from the hotel; from the church; from the 
depot; from the excursion boat; from the park; from 
the street; from the village and from the quiet farm- 
stead home in the hills this Octopus on the Lake draws 
our nation's fairest daughters into its unsatisfied maw 
of lust ! 

"I Must Find My Daughter!" 

The mother's tears flowed freely as she told her heart- 
breaking story. She sobbed : "I could not sleep at night. 
I would Jump at the sound of a footstep and run to the 
window with the hope that my daughter had returned. 
In my troubled dreams I heard the door bell ring, and 
then I would wake up to find it all a hideous nightmare. 
I have walked the floor in my sorrow and pain until I 


am almost a nervous wreck. But oh, I must find my 
daughter !" 

She who related to Mr. Clarkson the sad story of her 
life was still a beautiful woman. As he looked upon the 
photograph of her child he saw why the scheming scoun- 
drel had chosen her daughter as his victim. He declares 
she was one of the most handsome women he had ever 
seen — a valuble prize for the White Slave Trader. It 
had not taken the fiend long to calculate that she had 
neither father nor brother to protect her, hence his 
path was clear to work upon her his designs of 

The police had been on the case for months, but had 
accomplished nothing. That is the usual outcome, un- 
less there is plenty of money forthcoming to pay them 
for the extra work. Mr. Clarkson knew there was now 
only one way more left open — the way that seldom fails 
— and that was to at once definitely commit the case to 
the Great Detective of the Skies, He immediately 
knelt in prayer to tell the All-Father of the heart- 
breaking situation. 

A Heart Broken Mother's Wail. 

As they fell on their knees a wail of pleading fell 
from the woman's lips that must be long remembered. 
In listening to her cry of agony their hearts nearly 
broke. They felt sure that God would answer their 


prayer. After promising that he would do all in his 
power to find her daughter, they parted. 

They had not long to wait. One day soon after the 
parlor scene the girl was found at the counter in one of 
the large department stores. She had been in the hos- 
pital and had the same old story to tell. After her 
ruin and disgrace had been thoroughly accomplished 
she had been deserted and left to shift for herself. The 
"wandering boy" — the theme of many a discourse and 
the burden of many a prayer — was now in search of 
other victims; but the girl who had been deceived by 
him had been forgotten, or if remembered, shunned 
and left under the shadows of suspicion. Sentimental 
religionists have discriminated between the rake and 
tlie outcast, foolishly in favor of the rake and the rapist. 
The libertine mingles with the elite of society and has 
its smiles and daughters thrown at his fefet; but the 
poor girl who had been ruined and disgraced by him is 
spurned and ostracised by this unholy crowd. The 
home is open for the viper in broadcloth and diamonds, 
but closed to her who most needs pity and help. In the 
mean time we are hastening to tha Judgment. 

Nothing but the Blood. 

The poor child had feared to return to her home after 
her awful disgrace. She would without doubt have 


been in the toils of the White Slave Trader to-day had 
not God answered the prayer of that saintly mother. 
The happy girl returned to "Home, Sweet Home" with 
'Mother" and was soon after that soundly converted. 
This one was saved, hut where are the other thousands 
still in the toils ? Far from God and hope and home. 

We emphasize the fact that "nothing but the blood of 
Jesus can effect a thorough cure in the lives of these un- 
fortunate ones. The popular reform methods of to-day 
are insufficient to cope with the disease ; the radical way 
that insists in a life-transformation in the victim and 
the abolishment of the System is the only hope of 
success. A sound conversion and a good case of Wes- 
leyan, Bible sanctification will fit the unfortunate for a 
clean, victorious life. This Gospel works in the high- 
steepled churches as well as in the slums. By this we 
mean to say that it has power to cleanse the self-right- 
eous as well as the White Slave. Both need a Savior. 
Both are sinners. Both are lost, unless the Blood ia 

Before we close this chapter we add another case to 
the long catalogue of disappointed lives and blasted 
hopes. It should stir into activity every power at our 
command to throttle this Red Light Demon fostered 
and coddled under the broad wing of a corrupt city 
government. Its illegal existence should be wiped from 
the city map by an aroused and a determined people. 


"Where Has She Gone?" 

One day two motherly looking ladies oame to Mr. 
Clarkson's home and asked for an interview concern- 
ing a girl that had been missing for two years. The 
mother was of Norwegian birth and spoke English with 
considerable difficulty. But by the help of her friend 
she managed to make her case clear. Her own words 
will most forcefully tell what havoc sin wrought in her 

"A number of years ago my daughter secured a po- 
sition in the city of Milwaukee, and was doing well. 
She was of a quiet disposition with no thought of going 
astray or of giving her mother pain and grief. I kept 
a boarding house in Madison, Wisconsin, and did what 
I could to keep my little flock together. There were 
several other girls and a boy eighteen years old. We 
were happy until this great shadow fell across our life. 

"Better Position" Fiends. 

"One day a man told my daughter in Milwaukee that 
he could secure a better position for her in the city of 
Chicago. She went to Chicago and has never been 
heard of since. We suspected foul play, for we knew 
that she was not the kind of a girl to go wrong. After a 
long time of suspense and waiting I sent my son to 
Chicago. I gathered all my hard-earned money to- 


gether and bade him search for his sister until he found 

He might as well have hunted for a needle in a hay- 
stack. There would be more hope of finding the needle 
than of finding the missing girl in the slums of Chicago. 
A stranger in the city, with no one to guide him he 
would first have to find 2,700 houses of ill fame contain- 
ing about 30,000 unfortunate girls — White Slaves. 
Imagine what a task lay before him. But a mother will 
go any length to find the girl she loves. She continued : 

"My son made his way to police headquarters and told 
them why he had come to the city, and asked them to 
assist him in his search. They informed him that they 
thought they could not find his sister, but if he would 
return home and send them sixty dollars they would 
see what could be done. But he insisted that they help 
him in the search for his sister. They then advised him 
to get a permit and search for her himself in the resorts 
on the Levee and other places of ill repute. This he 
did, but it was the very thing that acquainted the dive 
keepers with his purpose. Even though the lost girl 
were there, the moment the permit was in evidence they 
would shift her to other places. 

"My son wandered from one resort to another until he 
became completely discouraged. Just before he left, 
however, he met several of your Wliite Cross Mid- 


night Missionaries who gave him one of your cards. 
He brought it home and gave it to me. Its printed mes- 
sage gave hope, and I searched and prayed on. 

Heartless Advice. 

"After another long year of waiting I could no longer 
endure the agony and suspense and decided to go to 
Chicago myself and find my girl. I did as my son had 
done. I went to the police in charge of the Eed Light 
District. I met with the same success. I learned later 
that these resorts are in existence every hour against 
every law on the statute books; that they are under the 
direct tolerance, if not protection and illegal regulation 
of corrupt police ofhcials. From these officials I hoped 
to obtain assistance in finding my daughter. 

"When I had stated my case they told me to pay no 
more attention to my daughter; that if she had been 
away from home that long she was no good anyhow, 
especially if she had spent these years on the Levee. I 
received no encouragement whatever, and was about to 
give up in despair when I thought of the card my son 
had given me on his return home from his fruitless 
quest. I am now here to see whether you can help me 
to find my long lost daughter?" 

They knelt in prayer and promised to do all in their 
power to find the daughter. They visited the Districts 


night after night and looked into the faces of thousands 
of wayward girls, but up to this writing no trace of the 
missing one has been discovered. The Midnight watch- 
ers are constantly on the alert as well as secret service 
men but she has as completely disappeared as though 
swallowed by the grave. 

She may be under the merciless lash of some brutal 
Slave Driver living a life a thousand times worse than 
death. She may be dead. The mother weeps her life 
away in the far away Wisconsin home for the daughter 
that may never return. As certainly as God lives there 
is coming a day of retribution for the White Slave 
Trappers. As the missionaries go about their dangerous 
work on the Levee the wailing question of mothers rings 
in their ear, "Where is she?" 

Mr. Clarkson says that the officers to whom the 
mother and son applied for help were plain clothes men, 
Coe and Duffy, of the Twenty-second police station, 
and under the command of Captains McCann, Wood 
and Cudmore. McCann was afterward promoted to 
inspector on the West Side and later arrested and con- 
victed for accepting money for the protection of illegal 
resorts. A short synopsis of what the White Cross Mis- 
sionaries suffered at the hands of these bright starred 
officers will show the public that the Eed Light District, 
under such administration, will be with us when the 
Millenium dawns. 


Where Is She? 

Caught in the System's toils, the mother weeps, 
And for the missing one sad vigil keeps. 



The Booking System. 

The two plain clothes men first mentioned, according 
to Mr. Eoe's new book. Panders and Their White 
Slaves, when on duty in the District, registered the fe- 
males brought there ; i. e., they took their name, age and 
address, etc. This method, branded by Mr. Eoe as a 
collossal failure, they employed to "regulate prostitu- 
tion." If these lewd dens exist in defiance of every law 
on the statute books relative to this vice, why did they 
not arrest instead of register the girls and thus send the 
missing ones back to mother, home and Heaven ? Thous- 
ands of poor girls have undoubtedly been lost and 
crowded into dens of infamy by this infamous system 
of registration. This is on account of the non-enforce- 
ment of law and the traitorous machinations of high 
salaried police ofiBcers. 

Mr. Clarkson, for twelve years in the fight against 
Vice on the Levee, declares, and stands ready to pro- 
duce witnesses that these same officers went before them 
into the rows of dens to "tip off" the Madams and thus 
frustrate the work of the missionaries. Ko sooner did 
the workers enter a resort when the lights were turned 
out and pandemonium was loose. The "girls" were 
driven from the "parlors" upstairs so that rescue was 
made impossible. When the officers were reported to 
the inspector of the District, he said, "Those officers 


were acting under my orders. I told them to throw you 
out. If I were down there when you came into the 
place, I would throw you out myself !" What beautiful 
conduct in one who is supposed to enforce righteousness ! 
The Madams and "girls" declare that they were told by 
the police to demonstrate against the White Cross band. 
Mr. Clarkson once asked a young woman in a resort, "Do 
the police run these places?" She replied, "Yes, sir! 
we take our orders from the police !" 

One night Messrs. Clarkson and Wakefield, with sev- 
eral of the Midnight Missionaries went into one of the 
most notorious White Slave resorts on the Levee. The 
place had been raided some time before. On the testi- 
mony of one of the workers the Madam had been heav- 
ily fined. The girls had been censured by the judge and 
told to get out of business. But, as so often before, this 
night they turned out the lights, and set up an awful din, 
screamed and opened every stop of the racuous electric 
musical instruments and bedlam noises incident to the 

In the meantime the Madam had sent out for the po- 
lice. Officers Coe and Duffy responded to the Madam's 
call, the lights were turned on at their command. They 
then inquired as to the cause of all this hub bub and dis- 
orderly ( !) conduct. They were told that tlie mission- 
aries were the cause of it all. They then turned to Mr. 


Clarkson, and were about to throw him out of the place 
when Mr. Clarkson asked them to go slow ; that they had 
no right to do such a thing in such a place. 

Protecting Vice. 

Undecided for a moment, they called for the Madam, 
who came declaring: "This is a house of prostitution, 
and I don't want these people in here!" Three times 
she repeated the statement, after which Mr. Clarkson 
said to the oiBficers: "You have heard what kind of a 
place she says this is? You know your duty as officers 
of the law in regard to it?" 

"Yes, we know our duty," they cried, "it is our duty 
to put you out of here !" This they did and afterward 
reported that the missionaries had created a "rough 
house" in The California. This resort had carried on 
an immoral show in connection with prostitution where 
thousands of young men were corrupted, hence the 

According to the statements made and evidence sub- 
mitted by the Ex-States Atty. Clifford G. Eoe in his 
book under the sworn testimony of the convicted pan- 
ders of the Chicago and St. Louis gang that was broken 
up in 1909, these officers were implicated with the 
agents and promoters of the White Slave Trade. In- 
stead of enforcing the law they assisted in violating it 


by warning the panders, receiving money from and pro- 
tecting the gang, etc., if the testimony of the convicted 
ones weighs in the case. But their days of plain clothes 
are over. They have been transferred to uniforms and 
quiet beats in residence and suburban stations. 

Mr. Eoe, after citing several cases where girls bad 
been registered by these officers, and afterwards res- 
cued from White Slave dens, says: "The flagrant in- 
consistency of this booking system is plainly seen in 
these instances. As a method for the protection of girls 
and for the purpose of eradicating the Traffic it was 
not a success and not productive of good results." We 
close with the following clipping fresh from the field: 

The Barricaded Home. 

"Mother and daughter are barricaded in their home 
at 9104 Green Bay Avenue, in the heart of the South 
Chicago Red Light District, and are in constant fear of 
death as a result of their legal fight to wipe out the 
dives around their dwelling place. They are Mrs. 
Pearl Sattler, widow, 81 years old, and Miss Hattie Sat- 
tler, who obtained an injunction restraining six of the 
thirty-three alleged resorts from operating. 

"Police and officers of the court are guarding the two 
defenseless women, and are keeping a strict lookout 
among their neighbors for violations of the law. 


"The Eed Light District must go," said Miss Sattler 
today. I am fighting to protect my home and mother, 
and I will do what the police and all the reform societies 
have failed to do — close up the resorts. 

"Our lives are in constant danger. They came to us 
and threatened to burn us in our home when we lay 
asleep. They threatened to hide in the rear, and stab 
us to death. Eepeatedly they have said they would 
shoot us. But we won't give up. 

"We won't move. We will not compromise, or sell 
to the divekeepers or rent them the place. 

"It is our home. We pay taxes on it, and we are en- 
titled to protection against these lawbreakers. We ask 
only our rights but insist that they be respected. 

"Father bought the place with his life savings. He 
left it to mother. We are poor. We have no other 
place to go. And we are going to stay right here, even 
if we are murdered in our beds. 

"I gave up my position as a stenographer downtown 
to stay home with mother. I must sew now from morn- 
ing till night that I may keep her and myself from 
starvation. My mother is dying by inches because of 
the sights she must see. Pianos, drunken men and 
women and continual disturbances keep us awake nights. 
We have our doors barred with iron, and our windows 
are closed tight. We must have blinds to cover our 
windows. We seldom see the sunlight." 


The above newspaper clipping is taken from the 
Chicago Daily Journal, June 27, 1910. While the 
presses hum we crowd it in, for it is timely. Eead it, 
and then see whether Vice "segregates" or whether it 
seeks to enlarge its borders by brutal threats to crowd 
this widow woman and her daughter out of their home 
in order that the System may enlarge its border. Not 
content with its prescribed area it seeks to crowd out 
of house and home these defenseless women. Where 
are the men of sense and sinue that these two women 
must thus live in fear of their lives ? How long will this 
thing be tolerated? 

The official and the hireling tell us that "segregated" 
vice is a protection for the home and especially for de- 
fenseless women and girls. Go to South Chicago, 1904 
Green Bay Avenue, and look at the closed and blind- 
drawn windows and the barred door of the home of this 
mother and daughter, with the System at their throat; 
will you then dare to repeat the statement that vice 
must be "segregated" for the protection of home and 




From the very conuneneement of our work in the 
dark underworld of this great and wicked city we have 
realized that we could do nothing of ourselves. He who 
has called us and commanded us to "go and preach the 
gospel to every creature" must Captain our fight and 
conquer our foe or certain defeat will mark our efiorts. 

It is to honor and to glorify Him that we write this 
little sketch of the battles fought and the victories won. 
"If it had not been the Lord who was on our side ; when 
men rose up against us ; then they had swallowed us up 
quick, when their wrath was kindled against us" (Ps. 

We have been attacked by many foes in various ways, 
but in every instance the Lord has sustained us. "Now 
thanks be to God, which always causeth us to triumph 
in Christ, and maketh manifest the savour of his knowl- 
edge by us in every place" (2 Cor. 2:14). "Nay, in all 
these things we are more than conquerors through him 
that loved us" (Eom. 8:37). 



Custom House Place. 

We began our work in the great vice center. Old 
Fourth Avenue, better known the world over as Custom 
House Place. Missiles of every description were thrown 
at us. One of these struck a large electric sign hang- 
ing over the pavement in front of one of the vile resorts 
and shivered it to atoms over the listening crowd stand- 
ing under it. In spite of all the commotion and oppo- 
sition several souls sought salvation at the close of the 

After we had left the place a man followed us for 
two blocks and caught up to us just as we were in the 
act of boarding a street car. He said that he was ad- 
dicted to the drug habit, and that if he did not get saved 
soon he would be lost forever. The poor man declared 
he knew he could never get to Heaven with sin in his 
life. When asked whether he was willing to pray for 
himself he said he was. Eight then and there while 
the throngs passed by he prayed, and we left him with 
the knowledge that God had touched his soul. 

Water, Eggs and Vegetables. 

Persecution on the street seemed to be our earthly 
heritage from the very beginning. Water was thrown 
upon us from the tops of buildings, eggs and decayed 
vegetables being added for good measure. Some of our 


workers were attacked and strlick down. Obscene lan- 
guage was hurled at us, and every resort known to the 
imps of Perdition was employed against ns; but the 
dear Lord helped us to keep up good courage and to 
come out victors, A goodly number of lost souls were 
led to the Fountain opened to the house of David. 

Many times we were driven about by the police and 
called before officers and judges to give an account of 
our doings; but invariably the Lord attorneyed our 
case and we were let go to continue the battle against 
sin. For years we fought our way on the old State 
Street Levee and Custom House Place. As the work 
enlarged and the vice sections grew, we cried to God 
for help. True to His promise to answer prayer He sent 
workers and we took up the battle with renewed earnest- 
ness. By His grace we have more than held our ground 
and are to-day advancing on the enemy's strongholds. 

Thousands of souls have been reached with the mes- 
sage of salvation and led to Christ in our services. Girls 
have been rescued and cared for. Homes ruined by 
sin have been rebuilt under the regenerating and sanc- 
tif3dng power of grace. Our bold stand for righteous- 
ness and against the conniving political forces of the 
city has stirred thousands of Christians to pray and to 
put forth greater efforts to reach the lost in the slums. 


The Enemy's Tactics Foiled. 

We have had heavy battles with the promoters of the 
great White Slave trade. More than once have we 
brought them before magistrates and they have been 
defeated and punished. They have threatened to kill 
us and to spend every dollar to put us out of business. 
They have hired cabs at about five dollars each to keep 
lined up along the Levee resorts all the night through 
in order to prevent us from collecting a crowd on the 
curbstone in our street meeting. 

When that proved too expensive and failed, they 
flooded the streets with water. But our undaunted mis- 
sionaries stood in the flooded streets and preached 
Christ, the hope of humanity. The city put a stop 
to this water waste and thus their expensive operations 
utterly failed. We have kept on preaching a Christ that 
saves from all sin in the Eed Light District and they have 
never been able to put us to confusion. Many times 
they have been sadly punished. "Praise God from whom 
all blessings flow!" 

The Midnight Trio. 

The Midnight Trio is a magnificent moving force in 
the Association slum-work. It is composed of Rev. N". 
K. Clarkson, the Superintendent, and Rev. P. Kim and 

Mr. J. C. Wakefield, his Assistants. A brief history of 


their conversion and subsequent work will show that 
they are God's men in the right place. They thoroughly 
understand how to handle a slum crowd and to work 
through the resorts with their chosen band. Their large 
guitars and wonderful collection of soul-touching mem- 
orized songs at once call together the "wandering boys" 
swarming the Levee. Many a mother's long lost boy 
has there knelt on an old newspaper near the curbstone 
through the influence of Spirit-filled song, pleading and 

Mr. Clarkson's Conversion. 

N. K. Clarkson was born in the city of Chicago. 
When yet a boy he fell into sin in its worst phases. From 
the city attractions he began to wander over the country. 
His quest was satisfaction, which he hoped might be 
found in travel and the alluring offers of the world. He 
visited hundreds of towns and_ cities and remained 
away for months, only to return unsatisfied still. Again 
the quest was taken up in new fields, but the pleasures 
in sin for a season left him more hopeless after each 

A Barrel House Saloon. 

He traveled thousands of miles, crossed the continent 
from Chicago to the Pacific coast several times, but 
found not the goal of his carnal quest. One day he and 


his brother found themselves sitting in a barrel house 
saloon in the city of Portland, Oregon. 

On account of sin they had fallen into trouble and 
were even then hiding from the police. Either because 
the strangers were not spending enough money over his 
bar or berause of the telltale marks of fear upon them, 
the bar keeper told them they were not wanted there. 
An arrest here might bring his joint into disrepute ( ?). 

Slum Boundary Dead Lines. 

They left the low saloon, but not long afterward were 
intercepted by detectives from the Central Station. 
After a thorough search, not being able to find any- 
thing on their person that would give them an excuse 
for their arrest, they were let go. Cautioned by the 
plain clothes men not to leave the slum boundaries if 
they would avoid jailing they were left to their wander- 

That night they sauntered into the Men's Eesort 
Gospel Mission, No. 84 North Third Street, and heard 
the Eev. J. A. McVeigh tell the story of his life and how 
he had been converted in the old Pacific Garden Mis- 
sion in the city of Chicago. Mr. Clarkson's heart was 
strangely touched. He determined then and there to 
seek salvation and become a Christian. The night he 
was saved he immediately set about to induce his friends 


to accept Christ. Because of these earnest efforts sev- 
eral of them were soon afterward brought into the king- 
dom of God. Some of them are to-day with him in hia 
midnight work in the slums while others are preaching 
the Gospel in other fields. 

The Slums a Midnight Parish. 

Returning to Chicago he immediately began to tes- 
tify on the streets before those who had known his past 
life that Christ has power on earth to save from sin. 
Some who heard him urged him to attend college and 
prepare to preach the Gospel, but to this he turned a deaf 

About this time he met the Newsboy Evangelist who 
was conducting services near his home. The evangelist's 
testimony made a profound impression upon him. He 
had been in soul saving work, he said, ever since sixteen 
years of age. During this meeting one night Mr. Clark- 
son walked home with the evangelist, who also urged 
him to attend some college and prepare for the ministry. 
He was asked if the way should open whether he would 
go, to which he replied that he would, and soon after 
found himself hard at it. 

Curbstone Evangelism. 
From the very first he was led into slum work. There 
was no r.est unless he was engaged in trying to win some 


weary soul to Christ. During the whole time at school 
he labored in the slums. Upon his return to the city 
he took up the work in earnest. As a result hundreds 
of souls have been plucked as brands from the eternal 

During these active years he has been superintendent 
of several missions in different sections of the city, has 
preached in scores of missions, churches. Salvation 
Army and Volunteer halls. Especially on the streets 
of the city has his ministry been blest. Thousands of 
wandering men and women have heard his testimony 
to the saving power of Christ, and as a result have been 
won to God. 

Twelve Years in the Slums. 

There is no man in Chicago to-day who is more 
familiar with the vice demon and vice districts than 
Mr. Clarkson. The lawless fear him more than the 
police. Those who have grown tired of sin appeal to 
him, knowing that he is their friend. A large volume 
could easily be written of striking and soul-stirring 
incidents that fell under his observation during his 
twelve years of midnight work in the slums. 

He has given up all to follow Jesus. As Superinten- 
dent, his time is exclusively devoted to the interests of 
The White Cross Midnight Missionary Associa- 
tion, and that means the rescue of the lost. He believes 

C C3 

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5: a 


the Bible from cover to cover, preaches Hell fire and 
holiness and loves God and his fellow man with all his 

The Undertaker's Conversion. 

Before his conversion Eev. P. Kim was in an under- 
taking establishment with a backslidden companion. 
As they were about to embalm a corpse this backslidden 
man would often fling the following rude Jest over the 
remains : 

"Beauty is only skin deep. 
Ugly goes clear to the bone. 

Beauty soon fades away, 
But ugly holds its own. 

You're here to-day, 

You're gone to-morrow — 

Where will you spend Eternity?" 

Such expressions in the presence of death almost set 
Mr. Kim wild. He remembered the old mother that was 
still praying for him. It put him under awful con- 
viction. He would then take his Bible and retire to the 
chapel connected with the undertaking rooms, read it 
and try to pray. Finally the burden grew so heavy that 
he went to see a minister. After advice and prayer he 
returned home with the hunger still gnawing at his 
heart. One day the minister came to his undertaking 
rooms and said: "Have you repented?" 

"Yes, several times," answered Mr. Kim. 


Then the minister quoted: "If we confess our sins, 
he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to 
cleanse us from all unrighteousness" (I Jno. 1:9). "Do 
you believe that ?" 

"Yes," answered Mr. Kim. "If I believe that, will 
I be saved?" 

Said the wise soul-winner, "Yes, if you believe that 
you will be saved," and left him with a little book in 
his hand, entitled, "The Way to God," by D. L. Moody. 
Left alone in his ofl&ce he had sat there scarcely ten min- 
utes when his soul was flooded with divine glory and 
the work was done. Since that time he has been closely 
associated with Mr. Clarkson. His fine tenor voice 
accompanied by his large made-to-order guitar rings out 
in the midnight hours over the vice fields of sin to the 
terror of evil doers. As Assistant Superintendent he has 
stood nobly by the midnight work. 

Mr. Wakefield Awakened. 

One night while returning to his home in a drunken 
condition God spoke to his guilty soul. While sitting 
alone in his kitchen. Hell with all its attending horrors 
passed before his troubled mind. Dropping from his 
chair to his knees he implored God to have mercy on 
his soul. He promised God that hour if He would save 
him he would serve Him faithfully the rest of his days. 


God saved him, as He always does when men are in 
earnest. Shortly afterward he met Mr. Clarkson, was 
led into the Midnight Mission field and later, with Mr. 
Kim, was elected Assistant Superintendent. 

These three men, Messrs. Clarkson, Kim and "Wake- 
field, with their instruments, have sung the sweet story 
of God's love at the midnight hour in every slum dis- 
trict in Chicago. In Winter and in Summer this Mid- 
night Trio has stood at the battle front and warned 
souls in the haunts of vice. The love-call to a better 
life has rung out over the vice section until many a 
weary girl has taken hope and escaped the toils of 
slavery and many a wayward boy has been arrested on 
the threshold of sin and returned to mother and home 
and God. 

Jail Work and Workers. 

Work in the jails began in the Chicago Avenue jail 
where a service has been conducted by the President, 
J. F. Unseld, and Treasurer C. L. Clarkson, for years. 
A service is now conducted in four different jails. Every 
week many poor souls are helped and won to Christ 
through these services. 

During the past years many workers have come and 
gone. We mention one who has been with us for years. 
Under the labors of Mr. Clarkson and Kim in a tent 
meeting one Summer she was converted at the early ago 


of seventeen. From the very beginning of her Christian 
experience she began to work in the slums. The theory 
that unmarried women (or women at all) should 
not work for Christ in the Red Light District lest they 
"be defiled" is unreasonable and unscriptural. Edna has 
been at her post all these years, with the exception of 
several times. She has gone through the vilest dens of 
vice scores of times distributing tracts and dealing per- 
sonally with the inmates. When strong men gave way 
to their feeling as the wintry blasts swept around the 
corners of sin she has stood true without a murmur. 
During all these years she has never given cause for 
the slightest suspicion that God's grace was not suf- 
ficient to keep her in the slums. 

Wiseacre Theology. 

It seems strange that some of our modern pulpit 
lights object to young women working with those who 
have been caught in the toils of the White Slave Traffic ? 
The writer has in mind a little slip of a girl about four 
feet ten in height and about eighty- five pounds in weight 
who found herself under God's call a slum worker in 
St. Louis. As the Madam saw her come in with the 
missionaries, she cried, "For God's sake, don't let that 
little girl come in here !" She could hardly be made to 
believe that "the little girl" was twenty-four years old. 


But Lillie Coats knew God. She felt His great love 
surging through her soul that must find vent. She ran 
toward the disturbed Madam, threw her arms around 
her neck and plead as she only knows how to plead that 
the life of sin might be abandoned. The proud woman 
of sin knelt weak and helpless by the side of "the little 
girl," as the tears of virtue and vice fell to the floor. To 
this day the Madams on the Levee inquire often for "the 
little girl." They had confidence in her and confidential- 
ly poured out to her their sad life-story and troubles. 

We believe that a pure young girl, God-called into this 
needy field, has more influence over her fallen sister 
than has an older woman. Naturally she who has been 
trapped into sin concludes that if God can save and 
keep her young sister there must be hope for her. At 
any rate, God understands better than wise man( ?) who 
is best fitted for this work. If your girl or my girl, un- 
fortunately trapped, should be saved from a life of shame 
by a young woman, we are sure that some of our foolish 
scruples would die. If she is called, God can keep her, 
never fear. 

Josie was led to Chicago from the state of Iowa. She 
is of Swedish extraction and came to the city because she 
felt the Lord's call. From a human standpoint it 
seemed she could never live in the city, nor be out in 
the slums all the night long, but through grace she has 


become an effective missionary of the slums. She has 
forsaken all, enjoys the work and braves the storms and 
battles no matter how fiercely the enemy assails. In her 
we have another proof of God's keeping power regard- 
less of circumstances, place, sex or condition. 

Nominal Church Indifference. 

We declare that if, instead of criticising, the nominal 
Bleeping Church would awake and march into the vice 
districts of our city as a body nightly and thunder the 
Gospel cure into the amazed and tingling ears of the 
TraflSckers on the Levee, the Eed Light District, to- 
gether with its tolerant political constituency would be 
wiped from the map of Chicago. We say, Shame on a 
church that leaves the uprooting of this high handed 
Twentieth Century Crime to a few men and girls while 
they sit in their pews and criticise, or at least are in- 
active! How strange that the highway-and-hedge call 
is saddled on to a fearless few while the thousands seem 
to have a call to "stay at home by the stuff?" Strange 
inconsistency, this! 



The object of this association is to preach, teach, sing 
and distribute the gospel of Christ, especially in the 
slums and segregated vice districts where iniquity and 
vice abound and where drunkenness and reveling are 
kept up far into the midnight hours. 

This is the pioneer "Midnight" missionary association 
in Chicago. The work began in Custom House Place 
and Whiskey Row in 1900. We have carried on an 
aggressive soul-saving work ever since in the slums and 
segregated vice districts. In 1906 the work was reorgan- 
ized. Since that time it has become the most effective, 
systematic and thorough work of its kind in the world. 

Some of the greatest and best known evangelists, pas- 
tors, missionaries, Salvationists, Volunteers and laymen 
have assisted us in this work, thus showing the good 
will and hearty co-operation of the different churches 
and religious organizations of the world. 

Thousands of men and boys, representing all classes 
of society from the millionaire aristocrat to the poor 
heathen Chinese, literally swarm in these streets every 



night in the year and may be reached by the gospel 
message. Comparatively few of these escape being 
warned of their danger. 

Our method is to prea(?h, teach and sing the gospel in 
the open air, at points where the largest crowds can be 
gathered. Also to distribute testaments, gospels, tracts, 
etc.. by the thousands. 

Blazing Red Light District. 

It is an impressive sight about midnight, in this blaz- 
ing, boisterous, ungodly and lawless Eed Light District, 
to see the uniformed missionaries, with white crosses 
in plain sight, moving about among the people, distrib- 
uting tracts, going in and out of those vile resorts, sa- 
loons, etc., doing personal work, pleading with lost souls 
and trying to persuade them to give up their lives of sin 
and shame and to be saved. Also singing or praying 
whenever and wherever an opportunity is afforded. 

In winter, sometimes standing on a snowbank for a 
pulpit, preaching to a crowd of young men from one to 
three hours. 

One night sixty-nine men stood in a snowstorm, 
white with snow, listening to one of the sisters preaching 
in the street in front of a row of resorts on both sides. 

In zero weather the message is taken from house to 
house, the workers going in companies of from two to 


a dozen, as the case may be. Great good is done in this 

The services continue from one to seven hours with- 
out intermission. In good weather, hundreds stand and 
listen. From one to six thousand men per hour have 
been counted passing by. Large crowds have stood in 
the rain, under umbrellas, until after midnight, listen- 
ing to the testimonies and the word of God. 
Midnight Results With Men. 

A living stream of testimony has been poured into the 
heart of the worst slums and most notorious white slave 
and flesh market in the world, resulting in hundreds of 
souls kneeling in the streets and seeking the Lord and 
thousands requesting the prayer of God's people that 
they might be saved. Following we give a few examples : 

About eight years ago a gambler, who was deep in 
sin, stopped at a street service; he was convicted, ac- 
cepted a testament, and invited the workers to his home. 
They went. The visit turned into a prayer meeting. 
The man, his wife, and her sister were converted. 
Shortly afterward they began to work for Christ and 
for years have preached the gospel, won many souls to 
God, and are still at it. He is an oflBcer in the Salva- 
tion Army and has been for several years, has preached 
in several states, and can be found at his post most any 


About six years ago, a young man addicted to drink 
and bound by many sinful habits, stopped and listened 
to the service at State and Harrison streets, in front of 
Whiskey 'Row. At the close he knelt down in the street, 
gave his heart to God, and began at once to confess 
Christ as his Saviour, Later he married one of the 
missionaries and together they have been engaged in 
rescue work ever since, snatching lost souls from the very 
vestibules of hell. 

About two years ago a man, who was separated from 
his wife and children on account of sin, came into the 
district to do wrong. He stopped at the meeting, re- 
quested prayer, saying: "I came here to sin, but you 
have stopped me." He was converted, went to work, 
sent for his family, and they are now living happily to- 
gether again, kept by the grace of God. 

About two years ago a man who had served as bouncer 
in the resorts along the levee for years, came along about 
midnight. A missionary was singing: ''Where is my 
wandering boy tonight?" He listened; the song re- 
called his mother's dying words to his heart. He was 
converted, and is now helping to win others to Christ. 

Midnight Results with Women. 

We are often asked the question — "Do you ever see 
any results of your work among the women?" Let the 


following decide that question for the encouragement 
of those who would ask it at this time : 

About three years ago the missionaries knelt and 
prayed in a resort. God touched the Madam's heart 
and she quit the business, joined a church, got married, 
and is living happily with her husband in their own 
home. The last time we saw her she said with a happy 
emile: ''I am happy now and will never do wrong or 
go back to the old life any more." She had a widowed 
mother and six beautiful sisters to rejoice with her over 
her deliverance from that awful place. Certainly they 
all believe it pays to work to save these girls. 

Madams Leave Resort. 

Another "madam" of a notorious resort quit the 
business and, taking one of the girls with her, said: 
"Tell those missionaries I quit because they talked to 
me so much." She went to work to earn an honest 
living. The woman who took her place allowed us to 
sing and pray there, and after a time she also left. 

Another place was entered one cold winter night. 
Three beautiful girls greeted the workers, They said 
they worked down town in the day time and lived here 
in sin at night to make money. A short talk followed, 
tears began to flow, a prayer was sent up to God for their 
souls, and the missionaries went on their way, visiting 


other places along the street. A few nights afterwards, 
two of the girls had gone back to their homes and the 
place was soon closed. 

Many other cases might be cited. The real value and 
results of such work cannot be estimated — only God 
knows. Many sad hearts are touched, many souls are 
saved and homes restored to happiness. 

An Appeal To You. 

Brother, sister, friend, suppose that was your precious 
boy or girl down there tonight, lost in that awful life of 
sin and shame. Would it mean anything to you to have 
them saved and restored to your home and loving em- 
brace once more? Stop and think a moment. Although 
it may not be yours, yet it is 

"Somebody's child, out in the wild, 
Strayed from the old home away; 
Loved ones are there pleading in prayer, 
Longing for them all the day." 

Thousands of both young men and women, the pride 
of the home, the life of the nation, are being dragged 
down and swept over the falls of eternal despair by this 
monster social evil every year. Unless we stop them, 
they will be lost forever. The gospel is their only hope, 
their last resort. A cry comes up from a host of broken 
hearts for help. It cannot be ignored. 


Vice District Opposition. 

Dive keepers hate tis because we warn their victims 
and they lose many thousands of dollars worth of 
patronage on account of this work. Infidels have been 
hired to come into the district and speak night after 
night for months in order to allay the conscience and 
drive conviction away from men's hearts. Chemicals, 
bottles, fruit, eggs, etc., have been thrown at the work- 
ers. Curses, threats, etc., are common things to us now. 
Several of the workers have been roughly handled. 
Even the women have been unable to escape the wicked 
assaults of these devilish men. Some of the workers 
have been beaten, knocked down, kicked, etc., but still 
the work goes on. We expect to push the battle stronger 
than ever. 

Startling Statistics. 

Chicago is the second city in America, and according 
to statistics there are about 7,200 wide open licensed sa- 
loons, nearly 4,000 other institutions where liquor is 
sold by special permit and otherwise, also hundreds of 
dance halls, cheap theaters, free and easy shows, gam- 
bling dens, pool rooms, bowling alleys, penny arcades, 
brothels, houses of prostitution, etc.. which help to make 
up the system of segregated vice. 

These places are open day and night the year around, 
destroying humanity, regardless of law. 


There are between 25,000 to 30,000 unfortunate girh 
living lives of shame and white slavery, and about 
10,000 men thrive and grow rich directly off the pro- 
ceeds of this awful traffic. The Chicago Law and Order 
League estimates the cost of vice in Chicago to be 
$53,000,000 per year, or an average of $1,000,000 per 
week. Hundreds of thousands of men, women, girls 
and boys must be ruined annually to supply the victims 
from our homes. There are several segregated vice dis- 
tricts, and they continue to enlarge their borders. The 
prosperity increases and the victims are supplied. 
Reader, what will you do to help save these poor lost 
souls from eternal destruction? 

Manner of Support. 

This work is undenominational and is dependent en- 
tirely upon the generosity of God's true children and 
Avhat He sends in answer to the prayer of faith. Brother, 
Sister, if you want a share in this great work for the 
Master, put some of your Lord's money into the salva- 
tion of these poor lost souls. Freely ye have received, 
freely give. Jesus said : "It is more blessed to give than 
to receive," and "The liberal soul shall be made fat." 

Will you honestly and sincerely pray this little 
prayer before you forget: 'T/ord, what wilt TJiou have 
me to do ?" 


^ Nature of the Need. 

A thoroughly equipped Training Home for the mid- 
night workers; also a complete printing outfit for im- 
mediate use, suitable to print appropriate literature, 
cards, tracts, etc., for this particular work. For further 
information communicate with the Superintendent at 
once— Eev. IST. K. Clarkson, 93 La Salle St. (Room 35), 
Chicago, Illinois. 




"o X 





=5 p 

£. £= 



Come, and see this hideous Creature, 
Citizen, and Church, and preacher, 
Creeping, crawling through our city, 
Sparing none, since void of pity. 
Here it thrives — a thing infernal — ■ 
Robbing souls of life eternal; 
Cleaving joys and adding sorrows, 
Working woes for our to-morrows. 

It is Vice. It thrives on Virtue! 
(Do not say it can not hurt you) 
Mothers' boys and mothers' daughters, 
It each year by thousands slaughters. 

It defies our laws and nation, 
For it is old Hell's creation. 
Yea, in fact, it knows no order 
Though we fain would fix its border. 
It is linked to death and treason. 
It knows neither right nor reason. 
Lust-eyed, lewd, it sits there, scheming. 
While the Church goes on in dreaming. 

Through the Eed Light gate shame porters 
Lead our girls to White Slave quarters. 
Drest half nude in Paris fashion, 
Serve they there the god of Passion. 
There the wine in silver chalice 
Drugs and damns our Eose or Alice. 
Mothers' eyes are red with weeping, 
While a formal Church lies sleeping. 

Where the low strung dulcet whimpers 
And the bold-faced harlot simpers 


Sorrow breathes in sobbing measure 
Through each mock array of pleasure. 
Mirrored walls show painted faces, 
Half nude forms in lurelike graces. 

To-day moves she midst royal splendor 
Cat 'ring to the sly lust vender; 
Drest in gauzy robes of fashion, 
Sleeping in the arms of Passion. 
But to-morrow — sad awak'ning, 
For a woman's heart is breaking. 
Learns she now, too late, the treason 
Of this hideous monster's reason. 

Ho! ye brazen shame-stall porters. 

Show us through your White Slave quarters! 

Let us see our fairest daughters 

Gilded Vice and Wealth here slaughters. 

Let us see your soiled doves sitting 

Smoking cigarettes and spitting, 

Driven to the lowest level 

By the Eed Light Prince, the Devil. 

Here is one — so young and tender — 

Pair of face and form so slender. 

She must grace your gilded palace 

Sip her wine from silver chalice. 

See the taxicabs come snorting 

With our gentlemen (?) "out sporting." 

Automobiles line your curbing 

Late the night through — none disturbing. 

Here where wealth has flung her splendor 
Fairest women, young and tender, 
Grace these gilded halls of pleasure 
Moving to their mad pulse measure. 


Earth's most beautiful and fairest 
Here midst furnishings the rarest 
Are here held as human chattel, 
Cared for like the finest cattle. 

Fairest forms and fairest faces, 
Moving in their lurelike graces; 
Trained in Hell's accomplished vices 
Here command the highest prices. 
Here we see the man of millions 
Lead the ball room smart cotillions; 
"With his evil brain inventing 
Lustful schemes without repenting — 
God! — ^we dare not half describe it, 
Modesty has bid us hide it. 

Here's another — young and pretty- 
In this slave-hell of our city. 
How she came here, tell us? Will youf 
Seems her plight would almost kill youf 
May we talk to her of Jesus? 
No? we dare not? Madam sees us? 
Must she her emotions smother? 
Can't you see she wants her mother? 
Must she yield her girlhood graces 
To these brutes who throng these places? 

Drifting down from yon vice palace 
Has come here our Rose or Alice. 
See the sin-linea on the features 
Of these poor forsaken creatures. 
Just a few cheap chairs and table 
In this last, low, lewd lust-st^ible. 
Eibald song, in broken quaver. 
Gives the low dive setting flavor. 


Stale beer served in half-size schooner, 
At her side a half -drunk spooner. 

Eaucous tunea from cheap piano 
Played by some poor black Diana. 
Swings the door on wearing hinges — • 
Few are now her conscience twinges. 

Pale and worn and hollow chested 

On a low white cot, unrested, 

Lies a woman from the Slaveyard 

Nearing fast the lonely graveyard. 

For the Great Black Plague has seized her, 

Gone are all the joys that pleased (?) her. 

Shunned by all, the Outcast lingers, 

Nervously the bed clothes fingers. 

Then, ' ' Oh God ! ' ' she sighs, and tosses, 

Counting up her life's sad losses. 

No one carea for this poor sinner — ' 

Then the veil of Time grows thinner. 

Just a little shock and shaking: 

Just a little thrill and quaking, 

And the Outcast — some one's daughter — * 

Counts another Eed Light slaughter. 

Vote for rum-nosed politicians! 
Vote for "wet" on these conditions: 
That these vice-stalls in the Section 
Must be kept for "our protection.** 
"We will segregate this evil — 
Build a fence around the Devil. 
To protect our wife and daughter 
We must countenance this slaughter. 
Eather than "our brother's keeper," 
We have found this method cheaper. 
So, heigho ! it 's wine and women, 
With a little beer for trimmin*. 


Sing your psalms, ye pew and preacher, 
You will never, never reach her 
By your gliblike, saintly prating: 
By your listless, loveless waiting. 
Go not near the soul in scarlet, 
Shun the plight of yon poor harlot. 
Heed not thou her ofttime sighing, 
Sister, when this child is dying. 

Though she fell, she's still your sister, 
Might have saved her had you kissed her. 
If the "Perishing you'd Rescue," 
Let her need at once arrest you. 
Stoop to put your arms around her. 
Tell the Lord that you have found her. 

Trust not, then, in legislation. 

Graft is eating up the nation. j 

We can find no politicians 

Who will alter these conditions. 

Bribes and boodle, graft and plunder, 

Keep our fallen sisters under. 

We must look to God for power 
In this world's sad midnight hour. 
To your knees, O Christian toiler! 
We must meet the wily Spoiler 
On his own red field of battle 
Where he holds his human chattel. 

Let the Church, aroused and ready, 
March united, strong and steady, 
Through the lines of this vice section 
Built and kept for "our protection," 
And drive out this Red Light Devil 
From his dens of vice and revel. 


Let her take the wayward daughter 
From the System's pens of slaughter; 
Outcast though she be, and lowly, 
Through the cleansing blood made holy 
Make of her a wife and mother, 
Loved as much as any other. 

Church of God! this is thy mission! 
Thou must change this sad condition.